


Whatever It Takes

by writemydreams



Series: DCU Bangs [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Bargaining, DCU Big Bang, Dubious Consent, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Past Bruce Wayne/Talia al Ghul - Freeform, Past Tim Drake/Stephanie Brown - Freeform, Plague, Ra's is a creep, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tim Drake is Red Robin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 14:11:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12706602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writemydreams/pseuds/writemydreams
Summary: What should’ve been a meeting to discuss business for Wayne Enterprises turns out to be a trap. Drugged, Tim falls into Ra’s al Ghul’s hands. When he wakes aboard Ra’s’ private plane, he learns that Ra’s has unleashed disease across numerous cities to cull the population and keep the heroes busy. Too busy to come and rescue Tim.





	1. The Trap

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shinysylver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinysylver/gifts).



> I was paired with shinysylver for the DCU Big Bang. She created the header, section divider, and the text message at the end of Chapter 5.
> 
> This is the first 10K+ fic I've written for the fandom and boy, was it a wild ride. Writer's block, change of ideas, panic over deadlines and getting things done in time... It was definitely a challenge, but one I'm glad I took.
> 
> Immense thank you to Tina for betaing and to Fae and Luna for reading through multiple drafts, pointing out my stupid typos, giving me feedback, and being someone to bounce ideas off of. Couldn't have done it without you!
> 
> Link to shinysylver's art post on tumblr: http://shinysylver.tumblr.com/post/167413694515/art-for-whatever-it-takes-i-am-a-mod-at-the

 

Tim sanitizes his hands as he checks his schedule. It seems that everyone in Gotham is coming down with something. Colds, seasonal allergies, the flu. Thanks to the anti-vaccination crowd there’s also been outbreaks of measles and the mumps. Tim can’t afford to get sick so he’s taking every precaution he can. The problems aren’t Gotham exclusive either; Metropolis, Star City, Las Vegas… numerous cities have been affected. At least most of the Titans have been able to avoid getting sick. Except for Garth. Tim smiles as he recalls Garth changing shape every time he sneezes or curling up in Raven’s lap and looking pitiful. As much as he misses being a full-time member of the Titans, it’s probably for the best that he’s sticking to Gotham. Letting Kon and Cassie handle the team together. Tim has too much on his plate with Red Robin, Wayne Enterprises, and getting a degree to live and work with the Titans.

Speaking of work. Tim gropes for his coffee cup and takes a sip, grimacing. It’s ice cold. At least there’d been good coffee at the board meeting. It made up for two of its members sniffling the entire time and a third making backhanded compliments about his youth. He’s used to that though.

Tim glances at the time. Only four hours until the dinner meeting that concludes his workday as Timothy Drake-Wayne. Red Robin’s night begins soon afterwards. One bonus to the illness going around is how it’s been quieter lately. Even criminals aren’t immune to getting sick. He’ll fondly recall how easy it was to catch a sneezing Riddler the next time the man makes himself a nuisance.

His phone buzzes. Tim checks it, finding a message from Dick. _“Can you stop by the Blackbird Bakery on your way home? I really want their cupcakes. Red velvet and birthday cake.”_

Tim smiles as he texts back. _“Alfred won’t be happy you’re cheating on his baking skills with someone else’s cupcakes.”_ Alfred doesn’t approve of takeout either. Spending nights at the manor to get Alfred’s excellent cooking makes dealing with Damian worthwhile.

_“It’ll be our little secret. Please?”_

_“I’ll get them after my meeting. We can eat at my place before patrol.”_

_“Great! Thanks Timmy. I’m glad you’re happy to take on the businessman mantle. I could never stand it.”_

_“You’d be good at promotions and parties. All you have to do is smile look pretty and you’d easily sell the latest Wayne Tech.”_

Dick replies with a laughing emoji. _“I’ll let you get back to work. See you later with cupcakes!”_

Tim sends him a pig emoji. That done, he pulls up his notes for the meeting. Lucius has truly outdone himself with the development of a solar powered car. Not overly efficient in overcast Gotham, but perfect for deserts and sunnier climates. Also it solves the need for oil and has no carbon emissions. Even Poison Ivy would approve of it.

He leaves the office and drives to Spice, the new to Gotham Moroccan restaurant where Aisha and Malik Katar have arranged to meet with him. The couple reside in Marrakesh and are interested in hearing more about the car. His presentation could convince them to invest in it. Tim parks in the small lot and enters the building. A waiter brings him to the private parlor where the two are already waiting. They rise to greet him, sitting down once pleasantries have been exchanged.

“I’m glad we were able to schedule this meeting,” Tim says. “How are you enjoying your stay in Gotham City?” Batman, the Robins, and the Batgirls have done so much to better the city over the years with the aid of Gordon and other good people. There’s a lot more to be done; most likely a lifetime of work.

“I confess I worried about coming. There is so much crime in Gotham City. Our stay has been pleasant though.” Aisha glances at Malik. “I’m also glad that we could meet to discuss a car powered by solar energy. But first, let us eat. Business is best over a meal.”

They make small talk over appetizers and coffee. Talk of business waits until the first course is complete. By the third course Tim has them sold on investing in the car. He also wonders if he’ll be able to fit into his Red Robin suit if he eats much more. The meal concludes with a light dessert and a final glass of mint tea.

“What did you think of our Moroccan cuisine, Mr. Drake-Wayne?” Malik asks.

“It was excellent,” Tim replies. He doubts he’ll need to eat until dinner tomorrow. “Did the restaurant live up to your culinary standards?”

Aisha smiles at him. “It has. Perhaps you will be able to dine in Marrakesh with us in the future so that you can experience an authentic Moroccan meal.”

“I would like that.” Tim has no desire to return to any African or Middle Eastern country after his frequent dealings with Ra’s al Ghul and other enemies. “I do appreciate how I’ve been introduced to a restaurant I hadn’t known about previously.” He reaches for the mint tea again then frowns. A tingling sensation is developing in his extremities. Is there alcohol in the tea? He’s had almost three glasses of it.

Malik cocks his head. “Are you feeling well? You look pale.”

“Perhaps an additional pot of coffee?” Aisha suggests.

Tim pastes a polite smile on his face. “Do I? That is my normal complexion. I would like some more coffee though.” He reaches for his phone beneath the table. Forget alcohol; the tea must’ve been drugged. That or an additional “spice” was in the meal. Tim unlocks the phone. All he has to do is press his distress signal. An alert will pop up in Bruce’s network to inform every Bat that he’s in trouble. What reason do Malik and Aisha have for drugging him? Do they plan to kidnap him for technology from Wayne Enterprises or to get Bruce to pay a ransom? Are they after him because he’s Bruce’s son? Or worse, are they working for Ra’s al Ghul?

Tim presses the alert just as a wave of dizziness hits. He drops the phone. Aisha catches it before he can. She curses in Arabic when she sees the screen. She drops the phone, crushing it beneath her heel. “I apologize for your treatment. You have been most kind to us, but you would not have come willingly. Perhaps the surviving population will develop your solar car as an homage to you.”

 _Surviving population._ “You’re in the League.” Tim plants his hand on the table as the dizziness grows. What have they drugged him with? GHB? The mint would mask the salty taste of the drug. He knocks his glass over as he struggles to his feet. Amber liquid spills across the tablecloth. The pair watch him as another wave of vertigo hits. Tim clutches the table to keep from falling over.

“Detective,” an all too familiar voice says from behind him. “Clearly you are in need of assistance.”

Tim freezes. No, not him. Anyone but Ra’s al Ghul when he’s so vulnerable! “I don’t need the assistance of a terrorist.” Bruce will have seen the signal by now. Will he come in time? Why don’t any of them know that Ra’s has come to Gotham?

Malik grasps his arms. “My master is hardly a terrorist, Mr. Drake-Wayne.” He turns Tim so they’re facing Ra’s. Malik holds him in place as Ra’s walks towards them with Ubu following. Ra’s wears a well-tailored black suit over a white dress shirt. His customary green cape is clasped around his throat.

Tim meets his gaze with a defiant one. “You won’t get away with this.”

Ra’s caresses his cheek. “That is where you’re wrong, Detective. I already have gotten away with everything.” He plucks a vial from his blazer. Ra’s holds it beneath Tim’s nose as he attempts to twist away.

 

 

Ra’s catches his detective as he slumps forward. “You have done well tonight.” The broken phone at Aisha’s feet comes as no surprise. Even when drugged, Timothy is still capable. Determined. His efforts won’t reap any reward. Batman can’t reach them in time. He gathers the unconscious boy into his arms.

“Master.” Ubu bows to him. “Please, allow me to carry him.”

“I don’t require your assistance.” Ra’s has long waited for the opportunity to hold his detective. When Timothy was still Robin, Ra’s had envisioned the boy as his heir. Bruce has always clung too tightly to his ideals to ever join Ra’s in his cause despite his relationship with Talia. She and Nyssa are admirable, but they are women. A woman isn’t fit to lead an empire. His own grandson is a disappointment to the al Ghul name. Ra’s no longer sees Timothy as an heir, but someone to rule alongside him.

Ubu doesn’t question him. “As you wish. I’ll bring the car around.” He bows once more and leaves the restaurant.

Ra’s adjusts his grip on Timothy. “Dispose of his phone and take his car elsewhere.” He finds the car keys and tosses them to Malik. “Go.” Unless there are tracking devices in his bloodstream or sewn into his clothing, Bruce won’t be able to locate his third son.

The pair leave to carry out their orders. Ubu opens the parlor door and holds it until Ra’s has stepped out. His servant moves ahead to open the door of the sleek, black sports car rented for this occasion. “Take us to the airport.” Ra’s lays Timothy across the backseat. He places the boy’s head in his lap, carding his fingers through dark hair while Ubu drives. Ra’s private jet waits for them at Gotham International Airport. He takes the time to study his beautiful detective. Timothy Drake-Wayne carries himself differently from Red Robin. Concealer covers his dark circles while his perfectly cut blazer hides the fresh wound below the left side of his collarbone. Ra’s brushes his thumb over soft lips. Soon, he will claim Timothy.

Ra’s raises his head when Ubu parks the car near his jet. “You’ve seen to the security checks? I don’t want any delays.”

“I have. We’ll depart as soon as you’re ready.” Ubu gets out so he can open Ra’s’ door. He lifts Timothy up into his arms again, carrying him up the ramp and past the cockpit to lay him down on the plush sofa.

Ra’s checks his phone as he sits next to him. “Prepare for departure.” He reads through the new messages with a smile. Batman and his allies won’t be able to foil this plan without a great deal of struggle. The flu strand plaguing Gotham and Metropolis is one of his inventions. Further disease has already begun to spread throughout major cities. His newest ally only needs his signal before she releases the spores throughout Gotham. Poison Ivy requires a simple word to begin: _Now._

_“On it. The green will recover her land back from these parasites.”_

_“We must save our Earth before it is destroyed.”_ Ra’s tucks his phone away again as Ubu returns from the cockpit.

“Are you in need of anything else?”

A change of clothing is in order. “Bring me the caftan.” He loosens Timothy’s tie then pops out the buttons of his pale gray dress shirt to reveal his chest.

“Yes, Master.” Ubu retrieves the boxes and places them on the table.

Ra’s dismisses him. Assistance isn’t required to dress his detective in more suitable attire. Timothy’s black boxer briefs are the only piece of clothing allowed to stay on his body. His garments will be disposed of once they land. Ra’s takes a few moments to admire the Detective’s bare skin. His body is just as scintillating as his mind. Pale skin, scars from his vigilante career, defined muscle on an athletic frame that looks so frail in comparison to Bruce’s bulkier build. Ra’s dresses him in an emerald green caftan with tiny gold buttons down the front of the garment and gold embroidery along the sides. Leather slippers go on his feet. Ra’s leans back to take in the view. The change in clothing is a drastic improvement.

He settles the young detective’s head in his lap just as he had in the car. Ra’s reclines in his seat. Bedding his beautiful Timothy will come soon enough. Ra’s has waited this long to stake his claim. Mere hours won’t break him. The Bat clan will be far too consumed with the viruses he’s unleashed to notice the absence of one of their own until it is too late to change Red Robin’s fate. Oh they will try to mount a rescue, but they will fail.

 

 

Dick can’t help but smile as he flies over the rooftops. Weeding the rot out of Blüdhaven as Officer Grayson and Nightwing keeps him busy. Gotham will always be home to him though. It was the first stable home he ever had. Coming back to patrol the streets and rooftops is the Bat Clan’s idea of a family reunion. Looking forward to cupcakes, Dick drops through the skylight with a grin. He’s disappointed to find Tim isn’t here yet. Probably still at his meeting. Boring. Dick stretches lazily and flops down on Tim’s cozy red couch. Jason will have a cleaning aneurism the next time he comes to Tim’s Nest. It’s a mess, just like Dick’s apartment. Used coffee cups and empty cans of energy drinks scattered around, laundry on the couch, books all over the place. Some for research and some for Tim’s classes. It’s a wonder Tim functions with Wayne Enterprises, college, and Red Robin.

His phone rings just as he’s about to text Tim about the cupcakes. “Bruce!” Dick says brightly. “Looking forward to patrolling with me again tonight?”

“We need to find Tim,” Bruce replies. His tone is more Batman than Bruce. Dick immediately sits up straight, at full attention now. “He activated his distress signal while at Spice. That was his last location. The signal stopped after that and I can’t track his phone. The GPS for his car puts it at the docks.”

Dick frowns. “You think he’s been kidnapped? Have you looked at the footage – no, of course you have.” Bruce is Batman. He’s probably talked to the restaurant staff already to figure out where the hell his son is.

“The footage has been wiped and the restaurant is closed. I’m on my way there now. Meet me at Spice. Where are you?”

“I’m at Tim’s apartment. We were going to meet before patrol.” Dick does a slow spin around the apartment, wondering where his little brother could be. If they can’t figure anything out he knows Kon is only a phone call away. Kon will do anything to find his Robin again. “Leaving now. See you soon.”

Bruce makes a curt sound of acknowledgement before hanging up. Dick exits the apartment, taking to the roofs as he makes his way to the restaurant. He cycles through the usual suspects along the way. Most of their regulars are locked up tight in Arkham. There’s a strong chance that this is a kidnapping unrelated to a typical villain. The Drakes are a wealthy family. Becoming a Wayne has only made Tim more of a potential target. His connection to Bruce, his position at Wayne Enterprises… if Tim has been kidnapped, he won’t be able to use his Red Robin skills to escape. He’ll have to pretend he’s merely the son of a rich man. It’s an unpleasant situation that Dick has found himself in before.

Bruce is waiting on the roof when Dick arrives. “Find anything?”

“Look inside.”

Dick shrugs and climbs through the window. He immediately understands why Bruce sent him in. The private parlor where Tim’s meeting must have been conducted is a mess. Furniture thrown about, cushions ripped, dinnerware smashed. The restaurant is relatively unscathed until he reaches the kitchen. A waiter is dead in a pool of his own blood and the cook is lying still on the floor. Bruce will already have done this, but Dick crouches by the cook to take his pulse. Nothing. He wasn’t stabbed or shot. Poison? A heart attack brought on by fear? His mind jumps to Scarecrow even though it can’t be him. Scarecrow hasn’t left Arkham in months. Dick stands with a heavy sigh. A missing brother and two murders. Great. He checks the office next. The safe is untouched while the TV has been smashed along with the computer. He takes in the scene for several moments. “Tim wasn’t abducted for a ransom. If his kidnapper was after money, they would have broken into the safe. The two men in the kitchen look like they’ve been staged. The cook stabbed the waiter and then died by his own hand or from something else.”

“The cook was poisoned.”

Dick frowns. “With what?”

“An overdose of GHB. I found traces of it on the glass in the parlor. Tim was served drugged tea then taken while under its effects. Spice was ransacked afterwards to make it look like there’d been a fight.”

Dick returns to the parlor to examine the glass shards himself. “Traffic cams outside?”

“None.”

Dick stifles a curse. Of course, that would be too easy. He and Bruce have gone off less before though. “Any word from Oracle yet?”

“She’s looking. Come back to the roof, Nightwing.”

There isn’t much more to be done with the restaurant. GCPD will be here soon to bring the bodies to the morgue and alert the owner about what’s happened. Dick exits the parlor and returns to the roof. Bruce stands at the edge looking every inch the brooding bat he is. He’s staring down at the street, fingers clenched into fists. Dick lays his hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find him,” he says softly. They won’t let Tim become the next Jason or Damian.

Bruce grunts in response.

Dick wants to say something more. He’s distracted when he sees vines spreading up the side of the building. Vines sporting blue flowers. He pulls out a batarang and takes a step towards Bruce. “Oracle? Robin? Are you seeing vines with blue flowers too?”

“Unfortunately,” Damian growls.

“I can’t pinpoint Poison Ivy’s location. There are vines by the clock tower, around three of Gotham’s parks, and climbing up the sides of various buildings. The flowers haven’t opened yet. Black Bat is getting a sample of them for me.”

Two of the blossoms burst open and release a cloud of blue spores. Dick immediately begins to cough, fumbling for a mask. “Respirators. Now,” he wheezes over the com. Bruce pushes a mask onto his face. Dick takes a deep breath only to wind up coughing hard again. What the hell has Ivy done now? He and Bruce work on severing as many flowers as they can before the blossoms open. As much as it pains him to put the search for Tim on hold, protecting Gotham’s innocent population comes first. Every vigilante knows that.

He can only hope that Barbara finds something out while the rest of the Bats take on Ivy’s army of plants.


	2. The Bargain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the caftan I envisioned Tim in. Only the fabric is emerald green rather than crimson. https://i.pinimg.com/736x/1f/08/54/1f0854c9f00c1b53538c26ec906c8b8a--kaftan-style-muslim-fashion.jpg

Tim wakes to the sound of engines. His first thought is that he’s in the Batmobile. The second is how _awful_ he feels. Dry mouth, pounding headache, heavy limbs. It takes a few moments for him to realize there’s silk beneath his head and over his body. Unless Bruce has taken to leaving silk pillows in the Batmobile, Tim isn’t in the car. So where is he? He vaguely recalls dining out. A problem with something… the food? No, his drink. Mint tea. Infused with a drug. Tim remembers dizziness, Malik restraining him for Ra’s.

That explains the silk. He’s been taken captive by Ra’s al Ghul. Tim opens his eyes to find he’s lying on a sofa. There’s a coffee table between it and the throne like armchair Ra’s sits in. A pitcher of water and two glasses are on the table. Tim watches Ra’s reach for one without looking away from the tablet in his lap. His expression sends a chill down Tim’s spine. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen delight on this man’s face. Seeing Ra’s so _happy_ makes him anxious. What’s he so pleased about? Tim drags his gaze away from Ra’s to take in his full surroundings. They’re inside a private plane. That explains the engine noise. Against the far wall is a bed with silk sheets, a table and chairs, and a wine fridge. Further behind Ra’s is the cockpit and exit.

“Ra’s.” Tim’s voice comes out as a croak. He pushes himself up onto one arm. Wait – what happened to his clothes? The suit is gone! So are his socks and shoes. Now he wears a luxurious, emerald green caftan with gold embroidery, tiny gold buttons, and a thigh high slit. The one relief is that his underwear hasn’t been removed. “Where’s my suit?” Knowing that Ra’s has stripped him makes his skin crawl.

“Ah, you’re awake.” Ra’s runs appreciative eyes down Tim’s body as he struggles to sit upright. “You are far more beautiful in silk than a business suit, Timothy. I took the liberty of dressing you in more suitable garments.”

Tim feels even more violated now. He makes a move to stand, quickly learning it’s a mistake. Vertigo hits him hard. He doesn’t realize he’s pitching forward off the sofa until strong hands clasp his arms to steady him. He swats weakly at Ra’s. “Let go.”

“And allow you to fall?” Ra’s guides him to sit back against the sofa. He plucks the second glass off the table to press it to Tim’s lips. “Drink, Detective. You’re clearly thirsty.”

Tim scowls. As if he’ll trust anything Ra’s gives him. “Is it drugged?”

Ra’s looks amused. “Why would I drug water that I too have been drinking from? Only your tea was drugged, Detective. Now drink. Quench your thirst.”

Tim wants to refuse. He is thirsty though so finally accepts the glass. He takes a few tentative sips. The water is a soothing balm on his dry throat. Ra’s waits patiently until the glass is empty then refills it. Tim drains it then reaches up to rub his aching head. He’s dizzy, has a pounding headache, and he doubts he can stand without assistance. Escaping will be very difficult. Especially when his sole weapon is a water glass. Tim calculates his chances of escaping after hitting Ra’s with the glass. The odds aren’t in his favor. Ra’s will easily catch and subdue him.

“If you are planning to strike me with your glass so that you may escape, I advise that you reconsider. We are halfway across the Atlantic now. You have no tools, no parachute. There is one beneath the bed and three more inside the cockpit. You wouldn’t have me incapacitated long enough to reach the one beneath the bed. If you tried the cockpit, you would have to face Ubu. Now you could shout for your Kryptonian friend to rescue you before flinging you over the door. My last update placed him in New York City fighting mutated sewer rats with the other Teen Titans. Do you believe Superboy will arrive in time to catch you before you hit the waves?” Ra’s plucks the glass from his hands. “Not that such speculation matters. How could you reach the door in time to jump when you can’t even stand on your own?”

It pains Tim to admit that Ra’s is right. He has every advantage while Tim has none at all. “You can’t kidnap me and expect to get away with it. Bruce _knows_ I’m in trouble. I activated my distress signal back at Spice. He’ll come for me. I won’t be your prisoner for long.” Few things anger Bruce more than having his children threatened or abducted by villains.

Ra’s pats his thigh. “That is why I did more than simply abduct you, Detective.”

Tim tenses. “What else did you do?”

“I have done many things, Detective. The anti-vaccination crowd has been most beneficial to my cause. Because of their ignorance, the hard work of so many scientists has gone to waste. Think of the major plagues throughout history. Smallpox, measles, tuberculosis, influenza. Let us not forget the bubonic plague that brought Europe to its knees.” Ra’s takes Tim’s hands and pulls him to his feet. “All I needed to do was reintroduce certain diseases, a new form of influenza, and one of my own creations to key cities across the country.”

Tim recoils in horror. “You can’t infect entire cities to fulfill your sick obsession of having me!”

Ra’s steadies him when the vertigo makes him sway. “I have already done so. Your family will feel the absence of your brilliant mind as they rush to contain the spread of disease and create a cure. With so many lives at stake, they won’t come for you. Seeing to Gotham’s safety is more important.”

Once again, Ra’s speaks the truth. Every hero puts civilian safety above their own. Especially Bats. “The Titans will come for me. Unless you gag me, you can’t stop me from calling Kon. He’ll hear me. Even while he’s fighting giant rats.” Kon will _always_ listen when Tim calls. He takes a step back from Ra’s and stumbles over the hem of the caftan.

Once more, Ra’s catches him before he can fall. “How will your friends find the time to save you when they too are dealing with disease? I told you, Detective, that my plagues have taken root in key cities across the country.”

So many innocent lives will be lost to Ra’s’ twisted agenda. The homeless, children, the elderly, anyone who has a weakened immune system will die first. Will the metas be affected too? How many heroes will get sick? Tim thinks of his friends and family burning with fever, coughing, suffering… His anger turns to desperation. “Did you create a cure?”

Ra’s raises his hand to stroke down Tim’s cheek. It takes all his willpower not to flinch and turn away. “You wound me with your question, Detective. Of course I have. Only a mad scientist releases a new disease without having any form of protection.”

Tim swallows as he looks into Ra’s’ eyes. Tim has known of Ra’s’ interest in him ever since he was Robin. He was thirteen when he first encountered Ra’s. First demonstrated his intelligence to him. That interest didn’t become sexual until Tim was sixteen and wearing the red and black of Red Robin. Now, at nineteen, Ra’s has had three years to fantasize about getting him in his bed. “One night, Ra’s. You can have me in your bed for one night if you give the cure to Bruce. You’ve wanted me for this long. Do you really want to fight me in order to have sex with me?” Tim isn’t sure he wants to hear the answer to that. If Ra’s refuses, Tim will fight with everything he has. He won’t simply lie back and allow Ra’s to violate him.

“I am not a common rapist, Detective. I deeply desire you and would much prefer to have you as a willing participant in my bed.” He takes Tim’s hands again. “We have a bargain. Once we reach my home I will dispatch the cure to him.”

That’s going to take too long. Tim shakes his head, immediately regretting it when his temples throb. “No, Ra’s. Too many people are going to die. Bruce needs the cure within the hour or there won’t be any sort of deal.”

Ra’s is silent as he considers Tm’s proposal. “Very well,” he concedes. “I’ll send orders to my agent in Gotham to deliver the cure.”

Tim sits back down. “How long have we been in the air?”

“Approximately five hours.” Ra’s takes a seat next to Tim. He lays his hand upon his thigh, shifting the fabric so that his fingers rest on bare skin. Tim fantasizes about slapping his hand away. No matter how tempting that is, Tim can’t risk it. Upsetting Ra’s could make him renege on their deal. Ra’s seems to sense that Tim isn’t paying attention to him. He turns his chin up with his free hand so their eyes meet. “You are radiant in silk, Detective.”

Tim’s gaze strays to the bed. “So you’ve said. Is inducting you into the Mile High Club going to be part of our deal?” He asks sarcastically. He regrets the question immediately. What if Ra’s says yes?

Ra’s takes his hand to kiss it. “I have waited three years to be intimate with you. I am content to wait until we reach my home. Unless you’re eager to become my lover?”

“Never,” Tim hisses.

Ra’s wraps his arm around Tim’s waist to pull him up against his side. “Tell me, Beloved. Have you been inducted into the Mile High Club before?”

The change of address makes him tense. He’s been Timothy or Detective for years. Now _Beloved._ “I have.” Once with Steph and numerous times with Kon. Sometimes Cassie and Kon at the same time.

Ra’s sighs. “A pity that I will not be the first to know your body.” He presses Tim closer so he can kiss him. Tim tentatively returns it. He wants the kiss to be abysmal, to be the worst kiss he’s ever had. It’s not. It’s far from terrible. Ra’s is talented. No wonder – he’s lived for centuries and must have pleasured hundreds of lovers. Tim clenches his fists to keep from biting Ra’s when he licks into Tim’s mouth. His hand moves from Tim’s waist up into his hair as the kiss deepens. Tim is flushed and breathless when they break apart. “How I’ve longed to taste your lips.” Ra’s leans in for another kiss.

Tim turns his head aside so Ra’s gets his cheek instead of his mouth. “Our bargain, Ra’s. Bruce needs the cure and I need proof that he’s received it before you can kiss me again.”

“You will have it.” Ra’s keeps one arm around Tim as he taps out a message to his servant. He writes it in English for Tim’s sake. _“Deliver the cure for the water virus to Batman. Call me once you’ve reached him. My Detective wishes to speak with him.”_

Ra’s gets a response almost immediately. _“I’m going to him now.”_

Tim waits with baited breath. Ra’s respects his wishes and doesn’t try to kiss him again. He only holds Tim close while Tim worries about the effect a waterborne virus will have on Gotham. He relaxes minutely once the phone rings. Ra’s puts the call on speaker so Tim can hear everything.

“Ra’s,” Bruce growls. “Where’s Tim? What have you done with him? Is he there?”

It comforts Tim that Bruce’s first thought is of him. Not only disease. “I’m here, Bruce. We’re on a plane somewhere over the Atlantic.”

“Has he hurt you?”

Tim glances at Ra’s. “No.” _Not yet._ “You have the cure now?”

“It’s in my utility belt. I’ll be taking it back to the Cave soon.” Bruce’s voice is purely Batman when he speaks again. “Turn the plane around and bring my son back to me. Now, Ra’s! I won’t leave Tim with _you._ ”

Ra’s caresses Tim’s thigh. “I assure you Timothy is in excellent hands. In fact, you’ll find that he is safer with me than he is with you. How are you faring, Detective? Have you enjoyed the fruits of my labor with Poison Ivy?”

Tim sucks in a breath. “Poison Ivy? B, what’s happening? What’s she done? Where—” he stops when Ra’s ends the call. “Ra’s!”

“A bargain is a bargain, Beloved. You spoke to Bruce and received verbal confirmation that he received the cure. A family phone call was never in our terms.” Ra’s tucks the phone back into his suit pocket.

Tim grits his teeth. Bruce didn’t sound out of breath or like he’s been affected by one of Poison Ivy’s plants. “Tell me about Poison Ivy then. What did you do?” He swings his leg over Ra’s’ so he can straddle his lap. The change in position upsets the vertigo, but he doesn’t feel like he’ll fall over this time. Tim takes satisfaction in the brief look of surprise that flits across Ra’s’ face before hands settle on his hips. Ra’s clearly hasn’t expected him to be so forward. Tim is only doing this to make him more cooperative. “And what is your waterborne virus?”

“So curious, Beloved. Kiss me first and the answers will be yours.” Ra’s slides one hand up Tim’s side to curl around the back of his neck. He claims Tim’s lips in a kiss that would be enjoyable coming from anyone else. Tim parts his lips to give Ra’s access. He hesitates before reaching up to grasp the front of Ra’s’ shirt. He doesn’t _want_ to be touching one of the world’s deadliest villains. That first kiss turns into two then three. Ra’s breaks it to catch his breath. “To answer your first question, I have long been aware of the abilities that Poison Ivy possesses. We met formally on a previous visit to Gotham City. We share a common interest and so I sought her out to involve her in my plans. Together, we created the virus she launched shortly after I left the restaurant with you.”

Tim swallows. “Only in Gotham?”

Ra’s squeezes his hip. “For now, yes. It will soon spread throughout target cities though. The virus is released through spores that, when breathed in, affect the lungs. The victim eventually dies when their cells and organs no longer receive the oxygen intake they require. To answer your final question, the waterborne plague is my newest creation. I released it along with the influenza to target the human population. All it takes is the consumption of city water. The victim mistakenly believes they have the flu as the symptoms are similar. At first. As the body weakens, a fever sets in. Death is only a few days behind at most. I predict a death toll in the thousands if not millions.”

There are no words to express the depths of Tim’s horror. Ra’s discusses mass murder as casually as a man talking about a grocery list. “You’re sick,” he hisses. “Bruce will stop you! You _know_ he will. He’s handled Ivy before. Now that he has the cure for your water plague, there won’t be a death toll in the thousands.” He pushes off of Ra’s lap and finds himself swaying when the vertigo hits. Tim tries to back away as Ra’s reaches for him. The table blocks his escape.

Ra’s pulls him down into his lap again. “There is no need for insults when we are spending a night in each other’s company. I will make this pleasant for you, Beloved, if you are cooperative. I quite enjoy having you in my lap.” He swallows Tim’s protests with a kiss. “It is true that I’ve released the cure into Bruce’s hands, but you know how quickly a virus spreads throughout a city’s population. At the same rate as panic.”

Tim grits his teeth. “I’m aware.” To be cooperative he curls his fingers around Ra’s’ shoulders. “How did you come to Gotham without a single Bat knowing?”

“Ever so inquisitive, Beloved. I entered Gotham City from Metropolis after attending an environmental conference there. It was most inspiring. Once I have rid the world of vermin I will be able to restore the planet to its former glory with the aid of Poison Ivy.”

“Those _vermin_ are simply people going about their daily lives!” Tim protests. “You and Ivy could do so much for the environment without going on a killing spree.” If every ecoterrorist banded together to become an environmentalist, they’d find a way to reverse global warming, create a worldwide recycling system, and keep busy planting trees and maintaining their gardens rather than plotting homicide.

“Are they? What of the trees that existed in peace and prosperity until a businessman decided it was time to cut them down for lumber, paper, or to place a condo upon the land?” Ra’s’ hold tightens on his hips. “Gotham City was once a forest. As was Metropolis. The world’s population is far too great for it to handle. I have no intention of moving to a different planet because mankind is intent on destroying this one. You are too noble to agree with me, Beloved, but you know humanity is the true disease.” Ra’s releases his hips to stroke up and down his sides. “I see the weariness in your eyes. Rest. You have my word that I will not touch you while you slumber.”

Tim scoffs. “You drugged me _twice_ to capture me. You changed my clothes while I was unconscious and haven’t been able to keep your hands off me. How do you expect me to trust you?”

Ra’s takes his hands off Tim’s body. “I am a man of honor, Beloved. Violating a person in their sleep is the act of a common rapist. When I take you tonight it will be on silk sheets with your eyes on me. You will know who gives you such pleasure. And you will feel pleasure beyond what you’ve ever known.”

Tim dreads their arrival.

 

 

Tim’s trepidation peaks as he sees the League Headquarters outside the window. Very soon he’ll be giving his body over to Ra’s al Ghul. Unless Ra’s has business to conduct first? Henchmen to order around, news to check up on… The small hope dies as Ra’s takes a seat next to him. He’s smiling again, something that will never cease to make Tim anxious. The only good thing is that his symptoms are gone. Nothing would be more humiliating than falling down the plane stairs or having to be carried to Ra’s’ quarters like a bride.

“Welcome home, Beloved.”

“This is a one night stand, Ra’s. I’m not moving in with you.”

Ra’s smirks. “A night in my bed will leave you aching for more. Your previous lovers have a mere fraction of my skill and experience. After you lie with me, no one will ever be able to please you as I can.”

Tim allows Ra’s to steal a kiss rather than snarl out a disgusted retort. Ra’s is delusional if he thinks Tim will want to stay with him any longer than absolutely necessary.

The plane touches down on the helipad and Ubu emerges from the cockpit, where he’s stayed throughout the duration of the flight. Another small comfort. Kissing Ra’s in front of his servant would’ve been more than uncomfortable. Ubu bows to Ra’s and opens the door so he can unfold the staircase. Ra’s keeps a firm arm around Tim’s waist as they stand. Does he think Tim is going to try to run from him?

“You don’t need to hold onto me like I’m going to flee,” Tim says flatly. “We’re both men of our word.” Even if he wishes he wasn’t right now.

Ra’s releases him to offer his arm to Tim. He takes it as if he’s a lady being escorted by a gentleman, something neither of them are. “You would run if you could, Beloved. I see it in your eyes. You long to strike me or shrink from my touch.”

“Can you blame me?” Tim mutters.

Ra’s merely smiles. They disembark and enter the building. Ubu follows at a respectful distance until Ra’s dismisses him. They pass a few assassins on their way to Ra’s’ chambers. They bow to their master and offer greetings that Ra’s ignores. Tim’s heart sinks when they reach the familiar doors to Ra’s’ quarters. Tim has been here a handful of times before. He never thought he would be here to go to bed with Ra’s.

Ra’s unlocks the doors and open them. “It is a pity that you won’t be a truly willing participant in tonight’s activities.” He runs his hand down Tim’s chest to curl around his hip.

Tim sighs. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with.” He presses his body against Ra’s’ so he can kiss him. Ra’s returns the kiss, taking control of it as he guides Tim into the room. The doors are closed behind them, Tim blindly walking back until he bumps into the bed. He breaks the kiss so he can catch his breath. Ra’s looks at him like he wants to devour him. Tim raises his hands so he can unfasten Ra’s’ cape. “Do you need Viagra to get it up tonight?” The sarcastic quip leaves his lips before he can catch himself. Dick is wearing off on him if he’s asking snide questions now.

Ra’s raises an eyebrow. “Do not let my age fool you, Timothy. I am more than capable of pleasuring my lovers.” He captures Tim’s lips in another kiss before he can respond. Ra’s skims his hands down Tim’s sides and around his back to cup his ass. Tim unbuttons Ra’s’ blazer while the elder squeezes his ass. Again, Tim is the first one to end the kiss. He drops his head onto Ra’s’ shoulder while he pops out the buttons of his white dress shirt. It’s easier to pretend he’s with someone else this way. Ra’s releases his ass to shrug out of the shirt. “Look at me, Beloved. Let me see your beautiful face.”

Tim raises his head. He’s seen Ra’s shirtless before so the man’s chest is nothing new. At least he isn’t unpleasant to look at. He’s strong and muscular with a handful of scars from his very first lifetime. Back before he discovered how to use the Lazarus Pits. Tim swallows when Ra’s takes his wrist so he can guide his hand to his chest and down to the top of his pants. Tim wonders if he can pull off a convincing faint. Or if he’d wake up completely naked and tied to the bed with silk scarves. Ra’s sighs when Tim makes no move to finish undressing him. Tim isn’t ashamed to admit he’s afraid. Sitting in Ra’s’ lap and kissing him on the plane had been bad enough. Now this is serious. It’s real. He’s going to spend the night having sex with a man whose hands are dripping blood.

“I am not a cruel lover, Timothy. I swear that I will not harm you.” Ra’s kisses him and starts to slide out the tiny buttons on the caftan. The garment falls open. Ra’s pushes it off his shoulders so that it falls to the ground in a whisper of silk. Tim steps out of his leather slippers, feeling painfully exposed now that he’s only in his underwear while Ra’s is still half dressed.

He finally finds his voice. “No, you’ll only infect thousands of people for your own sick agenda.” Tim grits his teeth and reaches for Ra’s. He isn’t a virgin and he’s not afraid of sex. Hell, he’s fought _Bane_ before. If he can fight that Venom addicted lunatic then he can take off Ra’s’ pants.

“Saving the planet is hardly ‘sick’, Beloved.”

“It’s your methods that are sick.” Tim glares at Ra’s when hands return to his ass. He unzips Ra’s’ pants and makes the mistake of looking down. Great. Now he knows Ra’s doesn’t wear underwear. Or has he only done this because he planned to get Tim in his bed? He pulls the pants down Ra’s’ hips so he can step out of them. One more hard squeeze to his ass and then Tim’s underwear is tugged off so that they both stand naked before each other. Tim shuts his eyes so he can’t watch his soon to be bed partner study his bare skin.

“Open your eyes. I want you to see who pleasures you rather than envisioning someone else.” Ra’s waits for Tim’s reluctant obedience before he guides him down onto the bed. Tim swallows as he feels the silk on his bare skin. He shuffles back, nerves going into overdrive when Ra’s skims his hand up Tim’s thigh. Ra’s hovers over Tim’s smaller frame and takes his time exploring his body. His hands are gentle as he brushes over each and every scar, lingering on marks he’s personally placed on Tim’s body. “So many scars for one so young.”

“You’re to blame for some of them.”

Ra’s scrapes a nail over a sword scar. It’s a recent one and Tim can’t help but shiver. “I’m aware. Stay with me, Timothy, and you will have luxury beyond your dreams. If you’re at my side you wouldn’t face pain again.”

Tim stiffens. “I don't need or want a life with you.” He’d never give up the hero life to become Ra’s’ concubine.

Ra’s kisses a knife scar beneath his collarbone. “Perhaps you will change your mind after our night together.”

Tim scoffs. “I’d rather date Damian.” No, that’s going too far. Ra’s knows it too. He laughs against Tim’s shoulder and continues his exploration down his chest to the scars on Tim’s legs. Once he’s catalogued each and every scar, Ra’s begins his examination again: with his mouth this time. It’s too personal, too intimate. Tim grips the sheets so he won’t shove Ra’s off him. He’s promised Ra’s one night.

Ra’s sighs against the sword scar. “You disappoint me, Beloved. A rock is more responsive than you are. Do you require an aphrodisiac to show even the faintest interest in my touch?”

No one has ever questioned his bedroom skills before. Tim knows he’s being baited. If Ra’s thinks that Tim will be shamed into becoming an active lover then he’s mistaken. “If you want me to be responsive, try not being a genocidal maniac for once.”

Tim can’t suppress a shiver when Ra’s traces his fingers up the inside of his thigh. “You will sing for me, little Robin. We have an entire night for me to pleasure you.” He comes close to Tim’s cock. So close it makes his breath hitch in anticipation. Tim is horrified to find he’s disappointed when Ra’s doesn’t touch him. He’s given his consent, but he doesn’t _want_ to be in this bed. “You’ll be my very own songbird.”

Tim grabs a handful of Ra’s’ hair. “Try me,” he growls.

Ra’s slides up his body. “I guarantee I will.” He draws Tim into a kiss as slow and leisurely as his exploration of his body. The sharp pinches to his nipples – always arousing – catch him off guard. Tim gasps, lips parting against Ra’s’. He takes advantage and deepens the kiss. Ra’s continues to pinch and rub Tim’s nipples as he kisses him breathless. A traitorous part of his brain wonders how those fingers will feel inside of him. Ra’s has had centuries to hone his technique. Ra’s ends the kiss with a final pinch. “I told you that you will sing for me.” He smiles slyly and reaches between Tim’s legs to cup him. He’s half hard from the treatment. “Like this.”

Tim can’t stop his moan when Ra’s squeezes his cock. “J-Just fuck me already, Ra’s! Get it over with.” He hates this drawn out foreplay.

“Rushing would be a terrible insult to the both of us, Beloved.” Ra’s squeezes him once more. Tim shuts his eyes. He pretends it’s Kon above him. Kon kissing him breathless, tracing fingers over his ribs to pinch his already sensitive nipples. Kon sucking a livid hickey onto the side of Tim’s neck as he presses Tim into the sheets. “Is your fear so great that you can’t bear to meet my gaze?”

Tim grits his teeth. “I’m _not_ afraid of you.”

“Then prove it,” Ra’s challenges. “Stop looking away from me or closing your eyes. Prove that you don’t fear the pleasure you will experience at my hands.”

Tim bites back a moan when Ra’s rocks their hips together. Too much skin, too much sensation. “Is it so important for you to see the total disinterest in my eyes?” he demands. Ra’s _knows_ Tim doesn’t want to be here!

“Oh, Beloved. I have you hard and waiting. Your apathy will soon vanish as I pleasure you beyond your wildest dreams.”

Tim scoffs. “Only in _your_ dreams will that be happening.” He squirms when Ra’s curls his fingers around his cock and strokes him again. Tim wishes Ra’s would stop trying to make him enjoy this. Tim is no stranger to pain. He can handle rough sex. Ra’s doesn’t release him until he’s fully hard and flushed with need. Even then, he admires the effect he’s had on Tim rather than reaching for lube or make any hint of continuing. Does he want Tim to beg?

“When were you last intimate with a man?”

The question catches Tim off guard. “Um, two weeks ago.” He watches Ra’s take a jar off the bedside table. Of course he’ll have lotion rather than a modern day tube of lube. No condoms either. Not that he’d expected Ra’s to use one on him. Tim doesn’t realize he’s pressed his thighs together until Ra’s nudges them apart to place a slick finger at his entrance. He manages not to lash out as the finger pushes inside him.

Ra’s is as leisurely about working him open as he has been about exploring Tim’s scars. Just as Tim is about to snap at him for fingering him like he’s a delicate virgin, Ra’s inserts another finger. He thrusts them deep inside Tim and kisses his neck. Tim stays still beneath him, nibbling on his lip. He doesn’t want to give Ra’s the satisfaction of hearing him moan. He bites down hard when Ra’s thrusts his fingers in deep, crooking them experimentally. He hasn’t…

“Ra’s!” Tim gasps loudly when Ra’s strikes his prostate. Damn it, keeping quiet will be that much more difficult now.

Ra’s is smug above him. “I told you that you would sing for me, little Robin. If you continue to bite your lips to hold back your beautiful sounds of pleasure then you leave me no choice but to kiss you.”

Tim considers kissing Ra’s to shut him up. “Not necessary,” he gasps. His resolve crumbles when Ra’s leans in. Tim turns his head to avoid the kiss. He stops biting his lip, settling for a death grip on the sheets instead. Silk twists in his hands. Tim won’t give Ra’s the satisfaction of hearing him again. Pleasure be damned.

Ra’s takes his silence as a challenge. He inserts another finger, pressing them straight into Tim’s prostate. A hitch of breath is the only sound he gets. “So quiet, Beloved. Won’t you sing for me again?”

“Shut up, Ra’s,” Tim growls.

Ra’s steals a kiss. “You will serenade me.” He thrusts his fingers inside Tim until he moans. It’s a small sound, but still a victory for Ra’s. He smirks and trails kisses down to Tim’s neck. He bites down on soft skin as his fingers continue to twist and work inside Tim. Maybe Tim can pass out from oxygen the next time they kiss. His train of thought breaks when Ra’s grasps his cock.

“N-No!” Tim gasps.

Ra’s ignores him. He strokes Tim with each thrust of his fingers. It’s pleasure he doesn’t want, can’t stand to be enjoying. Ra’s sighs above him when Tim resumes biting his lip to keep quiet. “Do you expect me to only seek my own pleasure? I would be a poor excuse for a lover to treat you so coldly. I’ve told you how I wish for you to enjoy our coupling so you will feel euphoria before I take you, Beloved.”

Tim sets his jaw. Ra’s desire to hear him has Tim all the more determined not to let out further sounds of pleasure. He knows how to be quiet when he’s in pain. Not so much when he’s having sex unless it’s in a location where he could be caught. Kon, Bart, and Cassie have always delighted in the sighs, moans, and hitches of breath they pull from him. They know his body as well as he does. They know where to touch, what to do. Ra’s doesn’t. He only has this one night and then he’ll never lay a hand on Tim again.

The stimulation works all too well. Tim can feel his orgasm beginning to build. He wishes he had the mental control to will it back, to keep from giving in. Ra’s is relentless in his desire to get him off. He’s so focused on Tim he hasn’t touched himself at all. Tim doesn’t need to look to see how hard Ra’s is. He can feel his erection against his leg. “Stop,” he whispers, hating how breathy his voice sounds. He may as well be talking to the wall. Ra’s squeezes Tim’s cock at the same time he thrusts his fingers in hard. Try as he might, Tim can’t hold back. He comes with a shuddering moan and slumps against the sheets. His chest heaves as he works to calm his racing heart and breathe evenly again.

“Was that so terrible, Beloved? Your features tell me otherwise.”

Tim desperately wants to punch him. He hates how Ra’s can get him off with just his fingers alone. How will this be once he’s fucking him? “Yes,” Tim snaps. He shifts on the bed when Ra’s runs his hand up his thigh. Logically, this is the perfect time for Ra’s to consummate their bargain. Tim’s body is warm, pliable, and relaxed after the orgasm he’s just had.

Ra’s sighs. “Still you lie to me. To yourself.” He bites Tim’s neck in rebuke. “I have been honest with you ever since you woke on my plane. I desire the same honesty from you.” He steals Tim’s breath and his response with a heated kiss. “Are you ready for me, Beloved?” Ra’s traces a finger around his entrance.

 _Never. Get your fucking hands off me._ Tim doesn’t trust his voice not to crack or sound pornographic so he nods.

“Let me hear your assent.”

Tim grits his teeth. “Yes, Ra’s. I’m ready. Now hurry up so we can put this night behind us.” He twists his fingers in the sheets when Ra’s picks up the jar. Tim tries to avoid looking at Ra’s or paying attention to the sound of him slicking up his cock. The low groan sets his nerves on edge. Ra’s has been hard for a while now. Maybe he won’t last long. A quick fuck then it’s over.

…He’s wrong. So _very_ wrong. Ra’s is a skilled lover. He doesn’t need Viagra or aphrodisiacs and this is anything but a quickie. Ra’s pulls small sounds from Tim’s lips that he can’t suppress no matter how hard he tries. The silk threatens to tear in his hands as he clutches desperately at it. It’s taking all his strength to keep from moaning loudly.

Ra’s stills inside him. “If you prefer,” he rolls his hips down to make Tim’s breath catch, “I could bind your hands in chains or silk scarves.”

Tim shakes his head. “No,” he gasps. He does not trust Ra’s. Only lovers he trusts with his life are allowed to tie him up. Otherwise he feels trapped and uncomfortable. Submitting to bonds instead of escaping as he knows how to do requires trust. Ra’s will never have that. “No bon- Ra’s!” Tim’s back arches into the hard thrust that catches him off guard. “No bondage,” he finally manages. To prove that the chains aren’t necessary he moves his hands up to grasp Ra’s’ shoulders. Digging his nails into the muscle doesn’t make Ra’s’ wince, but it gives Tim some small satisfaction.

“Better.” Ra’s guides Tim to wrap his leg around his waist. “If you remove,” this time it’s Ra’s’ breath that catches, “your hands I will bind you.”

“Creep,” Tim hisses. He moves his hands from Ra’s’ shoulders up into his hair. There’s so little gray in it despite all the lifetimes he’s lived. He drags Ra’s down into another kiss to keep him from speaking further. It works – until Tim wrenches away with a cry.

Ra’s rocks against him. “So beautiful, my Detective. Do you still loathe my touch even after the euphoria I’ve given you?” His voice is ragged, firm hold on Tim’s hips almost bruising.

“Hate it,” Tim growls. He throws his head back against the pillows with another groan. He’s painfully hard again. This time, he won’t give Ra’s the satisfaction of bringing him to orgasm. Tim takes his hand out of Ra’s’ hair and reaches for his cock. Ra’s catches him before he can touch himself, pinning his wrist to the bed with a disapproving noise.

“Only I can pleasure you tonight, Beloved.” Ra’s takes his hand off of Tim’s hip to wrap around his cock. He slows the tempo of his thrusts to match his leisurely strokes. No quickie indeed. This pace is meant to last. Tim tightens his grip on Ra’s’ hair with a low hiss of frustration. He wants this _over._ Not to be entered slowly, deeply, hips rocking together with each thrust into his body. Tim’s trapped wrist gets a warning squeeze when he drops his hand from Ra’s’ hair to hold onto the sheets again. Fuck. He doesn’t want to get tied up. Tim seizes Ra’s’ shoulder and groans. Just as he gets used to the slow pace, it changes. Ra’s starts to thrust into him faster, harder as if he can feel how Tim’s orgasm is building. Ra’s’ gaze never leaves his face as he strokes Tim into completion. His voice is a strangled moan when Tim automatically clenches around him as he comes. Breathless, Tim squeezes his eyes shut to avoid seeing Ra’s’ reaction. Moments later he feels Ra’s come inside him. He doesn’t chastise Tim for closing his eyes or being too quiet. Ra’s’ is preoccupied with catching his breath. “Well worth the years I’ve waited for you,” he finally says. “Look at me, my Detective. Was this truly so terrible for you?”

Tim glares up at him. “Is my expression that of a happy lover or a reluctant one? I’m stunned you’re so insecure about your bedroom prowess that you constantly need validation about your performance.” He shivers when Ra’s pinches his nipples in rebuke.

“I am hardly insecure. Your pleasure is important to me, Timothy. Though if you insist on lying there and grasping at my sheets then a change is in order.”

Tim makes a surprised noise when Ra’s rolls them over. It’s a surreal feeling to have the Demon’s Head (and Damian’s grandfather – _why did he just have that thought?_ ) beneath him. “You will ride me next, Beloved. I want to see your beautiful body moving.” Ra’s shifts tem so that his back is against the headboard and Tim is astride him. He knows he’s blushing now and it’s embarrassing, but he can’t stop it. in this position it’s impossible for him to be passive. He can’t just lie there and take it. This is a challenge, and both of them know it.

Once again Tim finds himself speaking like Dick. “You’re so old it’ll take ages for you to get it up again.”

Ra’s slaps his ass. “Must I repeat myself? I’ve already told you not to let my age concern you. Touching you will have me ready to satisfy you once more.” Ra’s cups his ass and kisses him. Tim bites his lip in retaliation when Ra’s rocks him down on him. How many times are they going to do this? Until they’re too exhausted to go another round? Or will Ra’s be satisfied after Tim’s ridden him?

Only time will tell.


	3. Captive

Tim’s eyes feel like lead as he opens them. He’s thoroughly claimed and absolutely exhausted. His hips are sore from being gripped, his ass hurts, and he doesn't need to look down to know that Ra’s has left plenty of bites, scratches, and bruises on his skin. The bed dips when Ra’s joins him. His hair is damp and he’s changed into a fresh robe in his customary green. “You got what you wanted,” Tim says hoarsely. He drags himself upright, trying not to wince as the action aggravates sore muscles. “It’s time for me to go home.”

“I suppose it is. I imagine you wish to bathe?”

“Yes,” Tim snaps. His hair is a mess and he reeks of sex. At least he isn’t covered in dried come. Tim vaguely recalls Ra’s running a damp cloth over his skin to clean him before they fell asleep. There’s no point in modesty after how many times Ra’s fucked him last night. It doesn’t stop him from wrapping the sheet around his body like a blanket though. If only Tim doesn't know what one of the world’s greatest villains is like in bed.

Ra’s looks amused. “There is no need to get defensive. If you fear that I will join you, lay such concerns to rest. I am not a peeping tom. In fact, I will be leaving this room to have tea upon my terrace.”

“I need something to wear first.” Tim refuses to leave the bed wearing only a sheet.

Ra’s gestures to the bedside table. “A change of clothing has been provided for you if you prefer not to wear the caftan I dressed you in yesterday.”

Tim examines the clothing. Great. More silk. Today it’s an elegant silk robe suited for a princess, sandals, and silk undergarments. At least it’s nothing revealing. “…I’ll take the caftan.” Robes are too easy access for his comfort.

Ra’s seems pleased by the decision. “You did look most exquisite in it.” He retrieves the caftan and drapes it over Tim’s shoulders. “Fresh towels are in the bathroom. Once you’re ready, step out into the corridor. A servant will collect you so that we can dine together.”

Tim pushes his arms through the sleeves. He does up the buttons and eases his tired body out of bed. He turns his back to Ra’s’ to finish with the buttons, arranging the caftan around his legs. Once his skin is concealed from Ra’s’ prying eyes he turns around. “What are we dining on today? Drugged tea and aphrodisiacs?” He’s done being nice now that their deal has concluded. If Ra’s wants him to stay past breakfast he’ll be in for a fight. Unless… Tim could use breakfast as an opportunity to pump Ra’s for information on the disease he and Poison Ivy came up with.

“We will partake in spinach and pepper omelettes served with cardamom tea and fruit.” Ra’s leaves the bed. “You have my word that your meal won’t be drugged, Timothy. Nor will you be intruded upon while you bathe.”

As if he’ll trust anything Ra’s says. “Fine.” Tim enters the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. Ra’s has a modern day shower and a deep set bathtub already filled with fresh water. Tim puts an experimental toe in and finds it’s still hot. The shower would be quicker, but a bath is always a soothing balm on sore muscles. Tim pulls off the caftan so he can step down into the tub. He takes the time to thoroughly clean every inch of his body. He tries not to think about Ra’s’ hands on him as he rubs soap over bites and bruises. Tim scrubs and scrubs until his skin is pink. Once he feels less dirty for letting Ra’s have his way with him, he gets out of the tub. Tim dries off and dresses, looking forward to having his own clothes. To wear anything but silk. He scrubs the towel over his hair, giving it a quick finger comb before exiting Ra’s’ quarters.

There’s a servant boy outside. He bows to Tim. “Good morning, Detective. The Master has instructed me to bring you to the rooftop terrace. You are to dine with him and then prepare for your departure. Please follow me.” He starts walking, clearly assuming that Tim will fall into place behind him.

“Thank you.”

The boy leads him down the corridor and up a flight of stairs before stopping outside a door. He opens it for Tim, stepping out after him. He sinks into a deep bow. “Master. I have brought the Detective for you.”

Tim breathes in the fresh air. The view from the terrace is beautiful, providing a panorama of the desert all around them. Ra’s sits beneath a silk canopy with a tea service, his tablet, and a bell on the table. His gaze raises from the tablet to run down Tim’s body. “So radiant you are, my Detective. Come, sit with me.” Ra’s extends his hand in invitation. “Our breakfast will be ready soon.”

“I’m not yours.” Tim ignores Ra’s’ outstretched hand and takes a seat across from him. He gives the tablet a brief glance. The screen shows an Arabic news page. “World news?”

“Yes. Would you care to read about Gotham?”

Tim waits for the catch. When one doesn't come, he nods. “I would.” He needs to know what’s going on back home. Ra’s pushes the tablet closer. Tim loads the Gotham Gazette’s webpage and brings himself up to date with the crisis. What he reads is heart wrenching. People hospitalized with blue skin, gasping for breath, a need for respirators and gas masks, photos of vine covered buildings with enormous blue flowers… “What have you done?” Tim gasps. How many lives will Ra’s and Ivy ruin or extinguish?

“As I’ve told you, Beloved, I am cleansing the world of excessive vermin. Now if you wish to know further information then you will have to earn the answers to your questions.”

Tim immediately senses danger. “If you’re expecting me to have sex with you again, dream on. You had enough last night,” he snaps.

Ra’s raises an eyebrow. “I was thinking of a game of chess. If you win, I will answer three of your questions.”

“And if you win?”

“Three of your kisses. Proper kisses, such as the ones we shared last night.”

Tim sets his jaw. “Fine. After we eat?”

“Yes. Normally I enjoy the views from my terrace while I dine. This morning, I will have eyes only for this view.” He reaches out to caress Tim’s cheek.

Tim no longer has to suffer Ra’s’ touch so takes great delight in knocking his hand aside. “Don’t touch me. We’ll play and then your pilot takes me back to Gotham.”

“Very well.” Ra’s looks to the door when there’s a knock upon it. “Enter.”

Two servants step out onto the terrace carrying trays. They bow to Ra’s before approaching the table. The taller one sets out a fresh pot of tea and cups. She pours the tea then steps back so her companion can lay out the food. Each man receives a plated omelette, silverware, and a bowl of fruit. Ra’s gives them the briefest of glances before his gaze returns to Tim. The servants don’t need a verbal dismissal to know their presence isn’t wanted. They exit the terrace, once more leaving them alone together. Tim’s stomach growls at the sight and smell of the food. It does look delicious. However…

“There is no need to stare at your breakfast with the expectation of an attack,” Ra’s says. “You must be hungry after the night we had.”

Tim scowls. “You’ve given me no reason to trust you. The tea I had back in Gotham was drugged. The coffee _you_ gave me last night to ‘keep up my strength’ was laced with powerful aphrodisiacs!” He’s still angry about that. The sex would have been over that much sooner if not for the coffee break.

Ra’s calmly sips his tea. “What reason do I have to drug you now, Beloved? Our bargain is complete. We’ll be going our separate ways soon.”

“Stop calling me that! You don’t love me, Ra’s. If you loved me at all you wouldn’t have kidnapped me and infected my city.”

“No, I do not love you. I do care deeply for you though. If the term of address offends you so much then I will return to calling you Detective or by your name.”

It’s too easy. Ra’s had no qualms about calling him Beloved yesterday. Why would he suddenly respect Tim’s wishes? “It does bother me.”

“Very well. Now, Detective, would you prefer that I eat first to prove that your breakfast and your tea have not been drugged?”

“Yes.” Tim doesn’t touch anything until Ra’s has drunk from the cup, eaten a bite of the omelette, and speared a berry with his fork. He’s still suspicious even after Ra’s is unaffected. “All you’ve proven is that _your_ food isn’t drugged. I’ve had no such reassurance about mine.”

Ra’s sets his teacup down. “Give me your plate and bowl then.”

“Fine.” Tim swaps their omelettes and fruit bowls. He waits until Ra’s has taken another bite before stabbing his fork into his omelette. It’s good. Not as good as what Alfred could make of course. Tim starts on the fruit once he’s halfway through the omelette. He’s hungrier than he thought.

“After our match I will give the order for my plane to be prepared. You will be taken back to Gotham right away.” Ra’s takes another drink of his tea.

Tim gives a short nod. “Good.” The sooner he finishes the meal, the sooner he can play Ra’s’ game. And get out of here.

Ra’s rings the bell once they’ve finished. “Would you care to share a bottle of wine with me while we play, Detective?”

Does Ra’s think he’s an idiot? “I prefer to have a clear head when the cost of losing is kissing you.” Tim folds his arms over his chest. “Stop stalling. It can’t take that long for your plane to be prepared so why don’t we play on board? I assume you’ll accompany me to admire your handiwork.”

“I hardly call enjoying a pleasant morning ‘stalling.’” Ra’s pauses when the servants return. “Bring my chessboard and a pot of coffee. The Detective still looks weary after the night we shared.”

Tim’s fists clench. He won’t allow Ra’s’ smugness to affect him. What matters is beating him at chess and then getting back to Gotham. “Leave out the aphrodisiacs this time.”

Bowing, the servants clear the table and depart. They return soon after with coffee, fresh cups, and the chessboard. Tim watches them fill his cup to ensure nothing extra is added in. Ra’s dismisses his servants in favor of setting up the chessboard himself. “To answer your previous question, I won’t fly all the way to Gotham.”

“Fine. What color?” Tim waits until Ra’s drinks before he raises his own cup to his lips. As much as he hates being in this place, the coffee is excellent.

Ra’s turns the board so that the black pieces face Tim. “I will take white.” He makes his first move. Tim’s fingers hover over pieces before pushing a pawn onto the next square. This isn’t the first time he’s played chess with Ra’s before. Their games are always difficult. Ra’s is clever, has centuries of experience, and they’re both masters of strategy. Tim loses pieces and is checked at one point. In a stroke of either luck or strategy, he wins the game.

“Checkmate.”

“Very well, Timothy. Ask your three questions.”

Tim sips his coffee, taking his time to think of the right questions. “The media’s calling it the Blue Plague.” It’s a fitting name. The flowers release spores which invade the lungs. The victim’s skin eventually turns blue from oxygen deprivation. Tim hopes none of his friends and family are sick. “Is there a cure or a vaccine for it?”

“There is. Poison Ivy is naturally immune to its effects while I am not. I created a vaccine to protect myself and my associates against the disease.”

If Tim makes another bargain with Ra’s to get that cure… “What plans do you have to spread the plague outside of Gotham?” Is he able to do so, or is he fully reliant on Ivy for the vines and blossoms to grow?

Ra’s smirks. “My agents are already carrying out my plans. You have one question left, Detective. Use it wisely or we will have to play an additional game.”

Tim grits his teeth. “What will it take for you to give me the cure?”

“An excellent question.” Ra’s reaches across the board to take his hand. Tim allows his touch – this time. “There is one flaw though: I never invented a cure. Only a vaccination. So unfortunately, Detective, you will not be able to bargain your body to me for a noble cause.”

Tim snatches his hand away. “What about Ivy? She grows the plants. Can’t she make a cure for the disease?”

“You’ve already used up your three questions, Timothy. If you wish to know the answers then you will have to win another game.”

“Fine,” Tim hisses. “One more game and then we’re boarding your damn plane. I have to get back to Gotham.” His hands shake with anger as he sets up the pieces. He knows he needs to calm down, that he can’t hope to win if his head isn’t in the right place. “I’m taking white this time.”

Ra’s takes a drink of his coffee. “As you wish.”

Even though he tries his best, Tim doesn’t win the second game. Ra’s looks all too pleased with the victory. “Checkmate, Detective.” He rises from his chair. “And now for my reward.”

Tim quickly stands to deny Ra’s the satisfaction of looming over him or pulling him to his feet. He allows Ra’s to draw him up against his chest. Ra’s keeps a hand on his waist, free hand tangling in Tim’s hair. The first kiss is as intimate as the ones they shared last night. Ra’s breaks the kiss when both of them are breathless. He lowers his hand to stroke his thumb over Tim’s lips.

“How I will miss your kisses, Detective.”

“I won’t miss yours.” Tim squeezes his hands into fists. Two more kisses. Then he’ll punch Ra’s if he tries to go for another.

The hand on his waist presses him closer. “So you say.” Ra’s draws him into another kiss before he can protest. He deepens it, backing Tim up until his lower back bumps into the table. He really hates being trapped between Ra’s al Ghul and furniture. To his surprise, Ra’s lifts him up onto the table. Ra’s claims his third and final kiss with Tim’s thighs bracketing his hips. The second it ends Tim shoves him back with a sandaled foot to the chest. Tim slips off the table, retreating a few paces to put distance between them.

“The plane,” he says stiffly. “We can play further games on board. I’ve already spent too much time here.”

Ra’s packs away the chessboard and pieces. “The same stakes will apply even with the change of venue.”

“I don’t care. I need to know as much about the Blue Plague as I can.” Tim grabs his coffee cup. He finishes it, cleansing his mouth of Ra’s’ kisses. “Let’s go.” He sets the mug down and goes over to the door. Ra’s joins him with the chessboard tucked under his arm. Tim allows him to take the lead until they reach a familiar corridor. This one he remembers from yesterday. He moves past Ra’s to open the door and walks straight into Ubu.

Ubu’s large hands seize his shoulders. “Little birds shouldn’t stray far from their masters.” He grins down at Tim. The grin fades when Tim brings his leg up to kick him in the face. Blood fountains from Ubu’s nose and he stumbles back. One hand holds his bleeding nose while the other gropes for Tim.

“Do not touch him,” Ra’s snarls. “Timothy is _mine._ ”

Tim quickly moves out of reach. “We had a deal, Ra’s!” He steps back into a fighting stance and brings up his fists. He only has his body to fight with. Not his staff, not any of his tools. Ra’s doesn’t need a weapon to be a deadly opponent. The cost of capture won’t be Tim’s life, but his dignity. His body. He knows if Ra’s seizes him that he’ll be dragged right back to the bed he became so intimately acquainted with last night. How could he have been so stupid to believe that Ra’s would get what he’s wanted for so long and then send him home?

Ra’s passes the chessboard to Ubu. “You bargained a night in my bed for a cure. There was never an agreement to return you to Gotham after the completion of said bargain. You only assumed that I would do so. You can run, Detective, but you won’t get far. Make this easy on yourself and surrender. I would hate to humiliate you in front of Ubu.”

Tim calculates his odds of survival if he throws himself off the helipad. Without a parachute? Slim to none. He’ll have to rely on Kon. If he’s sick or caught up in another fight like yesterday… it’s too unpredictable. Tim can’t risk his life by relying on his best friend to catch him before he falls. He watches Ra’s, seeing who will make the first move. Ra’s seems content to wait. As if he truly believes that Tim will march up to him and surrender so easily. “If you want me, come and get me. I’ll never give myself up to you.” He takes another step back. The plane is his only chance. If he can board and get inside the cockpit, he’ll be able to escape from here.

“Predictable, my dear Timothy. I have some of my best-trained ninjas inside the plane to stop you should you try to escape via air. You can’t fly, you wouldn’t survive a fall from this height, and you can’t rely on Superboy to sweep you into his arms and rescue you. Your only option is to come to me.”

“Never,” Tim growls. He knows he won’t succeed. That even if he defeats Ra’s he’ll still be taken down by Ubu. It doesn't stop him from trying though. Tim fights with everything he has, taking vicious satisfaction in the sound of one of his blows landing on Ra’s. Each victory is short-lived. A kick to the ribs makes his breath catch painfully. Tim lashes out with a fierce uppercut. Ra’s seizes a handful of his caftan and pulls him forward, using the momentum to slam Tim up against the wall. He quickly has him subdued. Ra’s pins Tim’s arms behind his back and presses him to the wall with a knee to his spine.

“I will break your arm if I must, _Beloved._ Surrender. Now.”

Tim closes his eyes. “I yield.”

Ra’s caresses his trapped wrists without easing him out of the pin. “A wise choice. You will learn to enjoy your new life at my side. And before you insist that you’ll be rescued, I assure you such a thing won’t happen in time. Too much is at stake to go after one little Robin.” He drops his knee and pulls Tim away from the wall, keeping a firm hold on him. “Any attempt to lash out or break free will result in punishment. Now, Timothy. You can either walk back to my quarters or I can carry you there.”

Tim grits his teeth. He won’t let himself be humiliated any further. “I’ll walk.”

“Clever boy.”

 

 

For two days, Ra’s never leaves his quarters. Meals are taken inside and any business Ra’s has is delayed until he’s had his fill of Tim. The sex, the touches, and the way he looks at Tim are entirely unbearable. He runs through escape plans, thinking longingly of his freedom. The chance comes late in the second day.

Ra’s rises from the bed. “I will take my bath now. You are welcome to join me if you so desire, Beloved.” His gaze runs over Tim’s bare body, taking in the fresh marks he’s left on his skin.

Tim grits his teeth. “Never.” He knocks Ra’s’ hand away when he reaches out to touch him. “Don’t touch me! You’ve done enough.”

Ra’s pulls back to retrieve his robe. “I know you intend to escape. Ubu is in the corridor and I have guards posted at various points throughout my headquarters. You are a skilled fighter, Timothy, but even you can’t fight your way out of my home. Now get some sleep.”

Tim flies out of bed the moment the door closes. To hell with Ra’s and his guards. He doesn’t know how far he’ll get or if he’ll reach the plane at all, but he refuses to passively stay in bed. Tim knows Ra’s will likely kill anyone who dares to bruise or harm him too severely. He doubts even Ubu will be spared his master’s wrath should he go too far with Tim. He throws on a robe and rushes to the door. It’s locked, taking precious seconds to open it. Tim runs into the corridor where he encounters Ubu. There’s a bandage across the bridge of his nose from where Tim kicked him before. Good. Tim hopes it’s broken.

Ubu moves to block his path. “You must return to my Master’s quarters, Detective. You can only leave when he allows you to do so.”

“You’ll have to defeat me first,” Tim snaps. Bruce and his other teachers didn’t train him to be a damsel in distress. He’ll use all the skills he has to get as far as he can. If he can prove Ra’s wrong and reach the plane, he’ll be able to get home. To get to safety.

Ubu grins. “If you insist. I’ll be careful not to bruise or bloody that pretty face.” He lunges forward. Tim twists his body to dodge and delivers a kick to Ubu’s side. His feet are bare so there’s less force behind it than he’d like. Still, it makes Ubu grunt. The big man next attempts to sweep Tim’s legs out from under him. An all too common move that he learned how to avoid years ago. Ubu shouts something in Arabic that Tim can’t understand then swings a punch at his ribs. Tim blocks, retaliating with a quick punch to Ubu’s solar plexus. It doesn’t matter what Ubu said. The shout will have attracted attention, meaning he has minutes at most to retreat. There isn’t enough time to defeat Ubu. Tim blocks another blow then ducks under Ubu’s arm. He’s careful not to make the same mistake as he did with Ra’s. If Ubu catches his clothing, Tim’s in trouble. Ubu’s caught off balance and stumbles forward. Tim sprints down the corridor. He’s smaller, lighter, and faster than Ubu can ever dream of being. If he can outrun him and get through the rest of Ra’s’ men, escape is possible. So long as the plane is still there. Tim knows he’s doomed if it’s not.

Ubu curses as he chases after him. “You must return to the Master, Detective!”

Tim keeps his lead until he reaches the stairs. Two of Ra’s’ ninjas are at the top to block off his exit. With Ubu behind him his only choice is to go forward. Tim hurtles up the stairs and uses the momentum to spring partway up the wall in an attempt to leap over their heads. It could have worked if not for the damn robe. A ninja seizes the hem and yanks him down to the ground, careful not to touch Tim’s skin. Ubu seizes him as he fights to break free. He throws Tim over his shoulders and presses a strong arm across the back of his knees to prevent him from getting enough force behind a kick. Ubu traps his arms next.

“Release me or I’ll break your nose for real,” Tim growls.

“I can’t.” Ubu carries him back down the stairs. He tightens his grip when Tim pounds on his back. He feels like he’s hitting a rock. Tim gets the occasional grunt for his efforts, but overall Ubu acts like he’s nothing more than a pest. “Stop your struggling, Detective. My Master hasn’t been unkind to you.”

“You call kidnapping and rape a kindness?” Tim demands.

Ubu doesn’t bother to respond. Either he can’t think of an answer or he doesn’t care to do so. He doesn’t speak again until he reaches Ra’s’ quarters. “Master? I have the Detective,” Ubu calls before he enters the room. Ra’s has emerged from his bath and stands by the bed. He’s dressed in formal silk robes with his damp hair smoothed back from his face.

Ra’s sighs. “You are predictable, Beloved. I knew you would run the moment I left your side. As you’ve now learned, escape is impossible. Have I not made it clear that you are mine in every possible way? Put him down on the bed, Ubu. Then restrain him.”

“Let go of me!” Tim shouts. “I won’t be your slave or your lover.” He lands a vicious punch to Ubu’s ribs when the big man drops him on the bed. Ubu grunts and catches his wrists. He pins Tim’s arms above his head then sits down on his legs to keep him still. Ubu’s too heavy for him to move. He could try head-butting him, but he can’t afford to make himself dizzy. Too much as at stake. Even more so when Tim sees a syringe in Ra’s’ hand. “Coward,” he growls at him. “You abduct me, rape me, and now you’ll drug me too?”

Ra’s uncaps the needle. “Your life will become pleasurable once you have learned to cooperate with me. There will be no need for locked doors or restraints. I told you to give it time, Beloved. Have I not already shown you pleasure? You sang so beautifully for me already.” He strokes Tim’s neck with a wicked smile. “Hold him steady, Ubu.”

Tim squirms in Ubu’s hold. Nothing he does is enough. The needle pierces the side of his neck. Whatever drug Ra’s has injected with him soon circulates throughout his body. It makes his limbs feel as heavy as stones. Tim finds he can barely move his fingers. Some form of paralytic? “Hate you.”

Ra’s cups his cheek. “So you’ve said.” He sits down next to Tim when Ubu moves off of him. “Fetch the henna from my study. Then you will leave us. I have no further need of your services.”

“Yes, Master.” Ubu brings Ra’s a tube of henna. As instructed, he departs the room with a deep bow then closes the door behind him.

Tim watches Ra’s with wary eyes. Henna is traditionally for brides. Does Ra’s intend to marry him? To fully realize his claim of ownership? Oh god, he’s going to be Damian’s grandfather-in-law if that’s the case. Tim can’t twist free when Ra’s grasps his left wrist and rotates his hand so that the back faces him. Carefully, he begins his design. Tim catches snatches of the pattern. A mandala, writing, vines… Ra’s repeats the design on his right hand then moves down to his feet. Tim closes his eyes. Henna isn’t permanent. Two, three weeks and it’s gone. The tattoos will fade along with the other marks Ra’s leaves on him. Somehow, Tim will escape from him. Whether by his own doing or by rescue.

Like the henna, Ra’s’ victory is only temporary.


	4. An Unlikely Ally

Tim has been feigning sleep for the last hour. Ra’s hasn’t shown any indication that he’s aware of the deception. As far as Tim can tell, he’s busy with his tablet. Good. If Ra’s is focused on the news then he can’t molest him or make smug remarks about how Tim will soon be his. Forever. He endures the occasional caress of his hair or stroke down his back.

There’s a knock at the door. “Enter,” Ra’s says.

The door opens. Tim doesn’t need to look to know that Ubu has entered the room. He’s learned to recognize the man’s heavy gait. “Master,” Ubu says. Tim can’t understand much of his next words as he’s resumed speaking in Arabic. Ra’s answers in the same language. Tim picks out snatches of the conversation. Something about clothing (he may scream if it’s more silks for him) and then Poison Ivy’s name. The word for meeting. Is she here right now? No, that can’t be. Poison Ivy would never enter a desert willingly.

Clearly it’s important that Ra’s speak with her as he crosses the room. This will be the first time he’s left his quarters in the four days that he’s had Tim. “Close the door behind you, Ubu.” He says this in English. Does he know Tim is awake? Is the English for his benefit?

“What about the Detective?” Ubu sounds confused. “He’ll run the moment he wakes.”

“He won’t get far. He’s learned that already.”

The door closes behind them. Tim makes himself wait five, ten minutes before leaping off the bed. No time to find shoes or a top. Not when he has so little time to act already. If Ra’s or Ubu catch him, he’ll be bound _and_ drugged. Escape will be impossible the next time Ra’s is occupied or out of the room. Tim opens the door to check for guards before slipping into the corridor. Unless Ra’s has changed the location of his server room, Tim can get there quickly. He has to in order to avoid capture. What orders has Ra’s given his subjects aside from not to touch him? No matter. Tim keeps his spine straight and his walk confident. He refuses to slink through shadows or run. That’ll attract too much attention.

He makes it to the server room without trouble… until he comes face to face with the man guarding the door. He’s not a servant or one of the ninjas. “You are not allowed outside the Master’s chambers, Detective.” He shifts to block the door. “Return to his quarters at once or I will have to bring you there myself.”

Tim narrows his eyes. “I don’t need _permission_ to leave his bed. Now, you are going to step aside so I can use a computer or I’ll tell Ra’s that you touched me. That you were so overcome by desire you tried to violate me in this very room.”

The man tenses. “Such an accusation would be untrue.” His voice comes out strong, but his expression shows his unease.

“Do you expect Ra’s to care? He went to great lengths to bring me here. He’s demonstrated how possessive of me he is.” Tim rotates his hands to show off his henna. “Will you risk Ra’s listening to your side of the story, providing he gives you a chance to explain yourself at all?”

He turns pale. Both of them know how Ra’s is likely to react: with a sword. “…Fine. You have five minutes, Detective.” He opens the door so Tim can enter.

“Smart,” Tim calls. He sits down at the computer. By no means is he fluent in Arabic or the dialect the League uses, but he has a decent grasp of the language. He knows enough to access his email and fire off a message to Bruce, Steph, and Cassie.

_Ra’s al Ghul took me prisoner four days ago. I bargained a night with him for the cure to one of his plagues. He’s refused to release me. This is the second time I’ve managed to escape. I was seized before I could reach his plane last time. I know I’ll be discovered and recaptured once I send this message._

_By now, you’ve probably realized that the diseases Ra’s and Ivy introduced were to cull the population and keep the hero community busy. So busy that none of you could come for me. Ra’s hasn’t hurt me or placed me in mortal danger. I don’t know what his full intentions for me are other than to have me at his side and in his bed._ Tim looks at the henna and swallows. _Get me out of here. Away from him as soon as you can._ He signs his name and sends the email. His friends and family are going to be livid. Tim logs out of his email. “Kon,” he says. “I need you. Just… keep the people safe first. I can endure Ra’s’ touch if innocent lives are in danger.” He’ll marry him if he has to.

Now, he needs to know what’s going on back home. A shocked gasp leaves his lips as he checks the Gotham Gazette again. The Blue Plague has spread in the four days since he saw the news. Hospitals are still inundated with patients, people are rioting, clinics are running out of medication, and the disease induced death toll is mounting. Tim closes his eyes. There used to be hope that Poison Ivy could become a better person. That she could use her powers for good. That hope is gone now. She’s become a cold-blooded killer just like Ra’s.

“L-Lady Talia,” the guard stammers.

Tim pushes away from the computer. There’s no real place to hide in here. Under a desk will be too obvious. He holds his head high as the door opens to reveal Talia. She wears a floral caftan with a high slit and rubies at her throat. She raises a delicate brow. “You must have threatened the guard to get in here, Detective.”

Speaking to her is almost eerie. Damian resembles Bruce in some ways and his mother more so in others. “I said I’d tell Ra’s he touched me if he didn’t let me inside.”

“A most effective threat.” Talia shuts the door. Her skirts sway as she walks towards him. “What are you doing in here?”

Tim doesn’t need her praise or her attention. It’s nauseating to be in the same room with her after how she raised Damian. She trained him to be a killer rather than allow him to be a child. “Using the computer. How much of a role did you have in your father’s plan?”

To his surprise, Talia sighs. “I had no part in any of it. I share my father’s desire to see a greener, healthier Earth. I always have and I always will. But, for all that I love him, I refuse to support what he’s done to you and your country. Mass extermination through disease will cause fear and chaos. How can that benefit the environment? And then the way he’s treated you.” She purses her lips as she takes in his appearance. “Rape is a cruel, barbaric act. It disturbs me to see my own father stoop so low.”

“Are you going to do anything about it?” She could become an unlikely ally.

“I intend to. Show me your hands, Timothy. And your feet.”

“The henna?” Tim steps closer so she can see the mandalas inked onto the tops of his feet. Further designs resembling vines spread up above his ankles and down over his toes. The same pattern is repeated on his hands and fingers. Tim considers the henna to be another violation of his person. He didn’t consent to the dye or its implications.

Talia takes his wrist to examine his hand. She’s frowning when she releases him. “Are you aware of what these symbols mean?”

Tim shakes his head. There’s been no opportunity for him to research. Demanding answers from Ra’s has proven ineffective, as all he does is kiss the henna or stroke over it. “I know the marital symbolism for henna. Not the meaning of the symbols. Please, enlighten me.”

“They’re part of a binding ritual. I will not support the rape and conquest of a man six years older than my own son. So yes, Detective, I will help you.” She smiles now as she looks at him. “Out of all of Bruce’s children you are most like him. You are more than worthy of the title.”

“Thank you.” How genuine is she? Can he trust her? Right now, Talia is his only option. “I need to escape from Ra’s before he can finish the ritual. What do you know about it?”

Talia moves to his side. “Follow me to my quarters. We’ll be able to speak privately there. If we’re discovered, I’ll say that I’m outfitting you with jewels. Father has dressed you in such a vulgar way.” She gives the semi-sheer white skirt a disapproving look. “Come.” She takes Tim’s arm and escorts him out of the server room, past the guard, and down a corridor Tim has never set foot in before. Talia is the Daughter of the Demon so her quarters are as lavish as her father’s. She directs Tim to sit on the bed while she examines the jewelry on her nightstand. “As you know, Father has been obsessed with finding a suitable heir to carry out his cause for years. Your entrance into his life has changed that. Now Father desires to possess you. To control you as he cannot control Bruce or Damian.”

Tim doesn't need to hear about Damian. He has enough of him back in Gotham. “Ra’s will possess me in terms of marriage if he completes the ritual. I assume it’s a wedding based on League traditions?” Any chance of a quick divorce or annulment? Marriage won’t have Tim giving up control or becoming cooperative.

“It’s far worse than that.” Talia returns to him holding gold anklets, seven gold bangles, and a gold and emerald pendant. “Put these on.” She waits until Tim has done so before continuing. “The mandalas contains runes of binding. Al Ghul is written on your ring fingers.” She traces over the letters. “The vines and flowers are a personal touch, representing Father’s love for the natural world. They also mask other charms.”

Tim swallows. Magic is the one thing his logical mind can’t unravel. “What are the components to the ritual?” He needs to know everything he can.

Talia’s expression turns grim. “First, he claims your body. The more it happens the easier the casting is. Then comes the binding henna followed by an exchange of blood. Have you bitten Father?”

“I drew blood biting his lip yesterday.”

Talia sighs. “The first three steps are complete then. You will be wed to Father and the marriage consummated before the night of the new moon. The dying of the moon symbolizes the death of the other’s freedom. The ritual will take place then. After it’s complete, you will belong to Father. Body and soul.”

Tim takes a shaky breath. Now he knows what Ra’s means whenever he tells him that he won’t be rescued in time. “The new moon is three days from now.” Can Kon hear how much danger he’s in? He would sooner die than lose ownership of his body to Ra’s al Ghul.

“I’m aware.” Talia rises to fetch a scarf from over her chair. “I will speak to Bruce and Damian tonight so they’ll know to rescue you immediately.” She drapes the green and gold scarf over Tim’s bare shoulders. “When Bruce and I realized that our love couldn’t work, I confess I considered performing this ritual on him. I knew it would be too cruel though. He would despise me for stealing his life from him. I couldn’t bear to see the hatred in my Beloved’s eyes. If Father cared for you at all, he wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t be able to.”

Tim arranges the scarf to cover his chest. He can only hope that Damian never learns he’s gone shopping in his mother’s closet. “You’re right. Bruce would have loathed you for taking away his freedom and his life.” As much as he hates Ra’s for what he’s done.

“I know,” Talia murmurs. She pushes up her sleeve to check her watch, frowning at the time. “Father’s meeting will end soon if it hasn’t already. I would far prefer to keep you here than send you back to him. I won’t openly defy his wishes though. Denying him access to you will be seen as a challenge. If I am to make him see sense and turn his empire over to me rather than offering control of the League to any male he deems worthy as a successor, then I must remain on his good side.”

“So you’ll go behind Ra’s’ back rather than outright?” Tim asks.

Talia smiles slyly. “What Father doesn't know won’t hurt him. Besides, look at what he’s done to you. It should come as no surprise that Bruce will come for his lost little Robin.”

It pains Tim to admit how he can almost like her now. “Thank you, Talia.”

“You’re welcome. We must go now. I will say that I discovered you attempting to escape.” Talia opens the door, pausing when Tim stops her.

“One question first. If you despise rapists so much why did it take you four days to come to me? I’ve been drugged, tied up, subject to sexual abuse, received bridal henna, and informed that I’m a possession.” The words come out angrier than he intended. He should be grateful that Talia wants to help him at all, not questioning her actions. Yet again it’s Dick’s influence making him mouthy. First with Ra’s now with his daughter. He’ll be sassing Damian next.

“A precaution, Detective. Father hasn’t left his chambers since he captured you. If I came to speak with you, he would be suspicious. We have no reason to interact with each other. I’m aware that you and Damian don’t get along so if I were to come as a mother asking about her son, I know you would have little to tell me.”

She’s right. Tim pulls her scarf tighter about his shoulders as he steps out into the corridor. The bangles clink softly, making him feel even more on edge.

“Endure this nightmare for a little longer,” Talia whispers. “I will take great pleasure in stopping my father’s violation of you.” She squeezes his arm in a comforting way. “Now look grim. You are my captive after all.”

It isn’t difficult to pretend. All Tim has to picture is being bound and married to Ra’s al Ghul. Forever.

They turn the corner and see Ra’s berating a guard. He looks positively livid. Some of that anger fades when he catches sight of his daughter and Tim.

“Father, I found your new intended outside the server room. He threatened the guard to be allowed access inside.” Talia pushes Tim towards Ra’s.

A strong arm wraps around Tim’s waist to pull him up against his chest. “Found and accessorized him I see. Your jewelry looks quite fetching on my Timothy.” He raises Tim’s bangle covered wrist to kiss the mandala on the back of his hand. His grip tightens when Tim hisses and tries to twist away. “You’ve been using my network.”

“Of course I have,” Tim snaps. “I told you that you could have me for one night! You decided to kidnap me instead. I contacted my family and the Titans. They’ll come for me, Ra’s. And when they do they’ll tear down your entire empire and have you arrested for kidnapping and rape.”

Ra’s strokes his trapped wrist. “Only if they come before the new moon. After that, you will belong to me and nothing can be done to change that.”

Tim doesn’t get a chance to respond. A syringe pierces the side of his neck, making him go limp against Ra’s’ chest. Ra’s sweeps him up into his arms as the world fades to black.

 

 

Bruce gropes for his coffee without looking away from the screen. Fear of contagion has Gotham on lockdown. Roy and Jason are infected with the Blue Plague and Tim is still missing. Dick, Damian, Cass, and Steph are running themselves into the ground managing Gotham while he and Barbara are trying to find a cure. As a father, Bruce wants to fly to Ra’s and punch him so he can save his son. As a hero, he knows he can’t. Gotham can’t afford to lose him now.

He scowls as he receives a message. What is it now? Unless it’s notification about a cure, he doesn’t have time for this. He opens the message then grits his teeth. “Talia. What do you want?”

“Hello, Bruce.” She’s barely aged from when he fell in love with her all those years ago. “I need to speak with you and our son. Immediately.”

Bruce’s guard goes up. Talia has all but cast Damian aside now that he’s chosen to be a hero. What’s changed her mind? “Why?”

“Because my father is obsessed with your third son. Timothy is only six years older than our Damian is. I’m worried, Bruce.” Her expression shows she’s earnest. Even though she’s had little to do with Damian ever since their falling out, Bruce knows she still loves him. As he knows that Talia’s love for him never died even though they long ago chose their ideals over each other.

“He’s upstairs.” Bruce sends Damian a text informing him to come down to the Cave. “Is parental concern the only reason you’ve contacted me? Or are you’re checking to see the nightmare your father has caused in the name of environmentalism?” He stares her down. Once, he would have married her. Now, more often than not, she’s his enemy.

Talia shakes her head. “I would not call you and our son for information that any news article could give me. You look exhausted, Bruce. You should rest before you fall asleep at your computer.”

“Your father has kept me busy,” Bruce growls. “There’s no time for me to rest.”

Talia smiles sadly. “I understand. Father has been… excessive lately.”

‘Excessive’ can’t begin to describe everything Ra’s has done. Bruce is about to snap at her when he hears Damian. He glances back to see his son enter the cave, dressed down in sweatpants and a T-shirt. “Damian. Your mother wants to speak with both of us.”

Damian pauses. His eyes widen a moment, expression showing his surprise before he conceals the emotion. He approaches the computer to stand at Bruce’s side. “Mother.”

Talia smiles at them. “Hello, Damian. You look more and more like your father with every passing year.”

Damian gives her a short nod. “This isn’t a social call. What do you want?”

Her smile fades. “That’s no way to speak to your mother. I taught you to be more respectful than that.”

“No, you taught me to be a killer. Unless you’ve called to discuss Grandfather’s attacks then I have nothing further to say to you.”

Damian’s response clearly irritates her. It makes her get to the point of the call though. “By now you’ll have received the message Timothy sent you. I found him outside the server room earlier today hennaed like a bride. Father intends to claim him, body and soul. On the night of the new moon he will perform a ritual that will bind Timothy to him. Father has already undergone most of the steps that are required to complete the ritual. All that’s left is the marriage ceremony and then the new moon.”

Bruce clenches his fists. “That’s in three days.” What sort of father is he if he can’t save his son from such a fate? He won’t lose Tim like he lost Jason. “How does this ritual bind Tim to him?”

Talia sighs again. “It will give Father full control of him. Timothy… Tim… won’t have free will anymore. If Father tells him not to leave, he’ll have no choice but to obey. You’re right to be angry. I am as well. That’s why I decided to help.” She looks at Damian. “I will prepare a diversion to distract my father. When you arrive, you must get Tim and then leave. Get as far away as you can. If Father captures Tim again, you won’t be able to do anything for him.”

“Why Damian?”

“Does a mother need a reason to see her own son?” Talia replies. “You’re needed in Gotham. You can afford to spare Damian for a day.”

Damian folds his arms over his chest. “Grandfather will underestimate me. I am thirteen and choose to be a hero. I won’t underestimate you though, Mother. You care nothing for Drake. Why would you decide to aid him?”

Talia swallows. “You’re right, Damian. But this… Father goes too far. He’s become a common rapist now with an obsessive need to possess Tim. I won’t allow it.” She directs her gaze to Bruce. “You know I wish the world to be full of life and health again. But I never wanted this much death. All Father has done is sow fear and chaos. So I will do everything I can to help.” She touches the screen. “Contact me when you’re nearby and I’ll begin my diversion.” She bids them farewell and then ends the call.

Bruce studies the screen. How much can they trust Talia? He wants to believe it’s possible. She showed genuine horror when discussing her father’s actions.

“Father. Can we trust her?”

Bruce drags his hand down his face. “I don’t know, Damian. I truly don’t know. We need every ally we can right now though. As does Tim.” A sick feeling of guilt stabs at him. Bruce knows he wouldn’t have saved his son in time without Talia’s warning. “Put aside all negative aspects of your relationship with Tim. We need to get him back home. Before Ra’s can destroy him with this ritual.”

Damian doesn’t protest or make a snide remark. “Very well. Can you spare Brown and Cain? My grandfather will also underestimate them.”

The faintest smile shows. “Go. I’ll prepare the Batplane. Get your brother back and see that the four of you return home safely.”


	5. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tim's wedding look is inspired off of this picture - https://i.pinimg.com/736x/ac/cf/f8/accff89968b4da3ac35af7a9279d28cb--moroccan-wedding-moroccan-caftan.jpg  
> The jewelry comes from another picture that I can't find the link to, unfortunately.
> 
> This entire fic started with my scene of Damian rescuing Tim. So I had to go back and write in the rest of the story.

Damian waits to contact his mother until the Batplane is within thirty minutes of the League Headquarters. Too soon and her diversion will be over before they can reach Drake. Damian has never been keen on the third Robin, but even he has no desire to condemn Drake to a lifetime of slavery to his grandfather.

_“Mother. ETA 30 minutes.”_

_“I’ll begin my diversion in twenty. Enter from the south or the east side. I’ve rigged an explosion at the north and a drone attack from the west. The damage won’t be serious. I’ve cut the engines on Father’s plane so he won’t be able to pursue you via air. By the time the repairs are complete, you’ll be long gone. Stay safe. I will visit you after this, my son. It’s time we spoke face to face.”_ “

Damian takes a few moments to respond. _“I would like that.”_ For all her faults, Talia is still his mother. She’s chosen to act against his grandfather so perhaps there is a chance she will be able to reconcile with his father. Together, they may be able to right Ra’s’ wrongs.

_“As would I. I’ll try to get Father out of his quarters so Tim will be unguarded.”_

“What’s she saying?” Brown asks. “How’s Tim? Is he okay? Has Talia seen him?” She moves to sit next to Damian and tries to look at his phone, pouting at him. “It’s all in Arabic!”

“It is my first language,” Damian snaps. “Now wait, Brown. Go into the cockpit and tell Cain to enter from the east or the southern side. Mother’s diversion will take place in the north and the west.”

Brown opens her mouth to ask further questions. She seems to change her mind, shutting her mouth and going to the cockpit. Good. Damian has enough to think about without her interfering chatter.

_“Have you seen him since you contacted Father and I?”_

_“No. I haven’t seen my father either so there’s no way of knowing if he’s completed the next steps for the ritual or not.”_

That’s concerning. _“I’ll inform you when we arrive.”_

_“Be careful.”_

Damian pushes his phone into his utility belt and enters the cockpit. He updates Brown and Cain with his mother’s information. “Once we land, we’ll have limited time to act. I’ll go straight to my grandfather’s quarters. Mother intends to keep him occupied so that he won’t be with Drake. Cain will accompany me and clear our escape route. Brown, guard the plane and ensure you aren’t discovered.”

Brown crosses her arms. “You want me on guard duty? I should be fighting ninjas and rescuing Tim! He was my _boyfriend_ before you two even knew him!”

Cain shushes them. “Don’t argue.”

Brown relents. “Fine. If you see Ra’s, punch him for me. Or better yet kick him in the balls. He deserves it for everything he’s done.”

Damian won’t grace that with a response. “I’ll inform you once I have Drake. Avoid contact with my grandfather’s men if at all possible. Fighting them will cause unnecessary delays.”

Cain nods.

All they can do now is wait.

Cain pulls up her cowl as soon as the Batplane touches down. She and Damian leave Brown and enter the building together. “Keep the route clear,” Damian instructs her. He receives a nod before she hurries away. He keeps a batarang ready in case of attack as he heads to his grandfather’s quarters. The corridors are empty. Will Drake even be there? Or has Ra’s moved him to a safer location? He stops outside the doors, pressing an ear to the wood to listen. It’s quiet inside. Damian grasps the doorknob and slowly turns it. To his surprise, it’s unlocked. The room is bathed in soft lamplight as he steps inside. Ra’s isn’t present, but Drake is. He’s lying on the bed and appears to be either asleep or unconscious. Damian has known of his grandfather’s interest in Drake ever since he donned the Robin mantle. He can grudgingly admit that Drake is an attractive man. Provided one’s tastes veer towards short, scrawny insomniacs with vampire pale skin and a hopeless caffeine addiction. This is the first time he’s witnessed tangible evidence of that desire. Damian swallows as he closes the door behind him. Drake is dressed in an elegant white and gold caftan that’s opened to the waist. His chest is marked with bites, bruises, and scratches. Gold jewelry adorns his wrists, ankles, and throat. There’s also a crown on his head. Even the manacles holding his arms above his head are gold. Drake’s feet are bare, exposing the henna that matches the designs on his hands. Damian knows it’s a display. That Drake is meant to look like a bride about to be… deflowered on her wedding night. Revulsion sweeps through him. Has his grandfather already married Drake? Drake bears his marks – on his chest and inked onto his skin. Damian knows the patterns, the archaic spelling of their family’s name. A chill runs down his spine. When Ra’s wants something, he stops at nothing to get it. That includes Drake.

Drake stirs when Damian approaches the bed. “Go to…” he trails off when he sees Damian, eyes widening in surprise. “Damian?”

“What has my grandfather done to you?” Damian demands. Drake is clearly drugged. His eyes are hazy and he’s struggling to sit upright.

“Injected me. Some type of muscle relaxant or paralytic. It’s difficult to move, to fend him off. He went to check on a security issue. Talia’s diversion?”

“Yes. Mother said she would speak to him as well to keep him distracted.” Damian pulls his lock picks out of his utility belt. The locks are by no means complicated. If Drake hasn’t so clearly been a victim of sexual assault, Damian would mock him for his ineptitude. He unlocks the manacles and watches as Drake slowly pulls his arms back to his sides. He won’t be able to run in this condition. Damian grasps his shoulders and draws him upright. Unconsciously, Drake leans into him. His skin is flushed and his pupils are dilated. Damian’s disgust for his grandfather deepens. He’s kidnapped Drake, drugged him, and given him aphrodisiacs to force him to derive pleasure from his violation. “Are you capable of walking?”

“I think. I don’t know.”

Tutting, Damian pulls Drake’s arm over his shoulders. “Try.” He helps Drake off the bed. His legs wobble at first, but he doesn’t fall or look as if he’ll collapse. Good. He won’t be worthless after all. “Lean on me if you must.” He lays his hand on Drake’s waist to support him, grimacing as he feels the silk. “Wait.” He unfastens his cape and pushes it at Drake. “Put this on.” He doesn’t want to see him looking like a bride.

Drake dons the cape with shaking hands. “Thanks. Is Dick here? Bruce?”

“No. Brown and Cain are.” He presses his com. “I have Drake. He’s been drugged with aphrodisiacs and a mild paralytic. We’ll exit the room now.”

Brown swears loudly. “Your grandfather is an asshole. Bring him back to the Batplane. Quickly!”

“Affirmative.” Damian wraps his arm around Drake’s waist again. Their first steps towards the door are more of a shuffle. It’s slow, too slow. If Damian were taller and stronger he could simply carry Drake. That’s not possible yet. He supports Drake as he hurries them out into the corridor as fast as the older boy can bear.

They find Cain up ahead with a few stunned guards at her feet. She ducks under Drake’s opposite arm. “How are you?”

Drake grits his teeth. “Ask me that on the plane.”

They’re halfway to their getaway when they run into trouble. The distraction didn’t keep Ra’s busy for long enough. He’s approaching them from the opposite end of the corridor. He gives Cain a brief look of interest before familiar green eyes land on Damian. “Grandson,” Ra’s says coolly. “You have what belongs to me. Release the Detective. You are still an al Ghul despite the uniform you wear. I assume you will make the correct choice. Should you defy me, I will end you and the girl.” His gaze roams down Drake’s body, making him shudder and duck his head.

Brown scoffs in Damian’s ear. “Tell him he’s a disgusting rapist.”

Damian holds his head high. “You forget I am also a Wayne. You have brought shame onto the al Ghul name, Grandfather. You are little more than a common rapist now.”

“Stop talking.” Cain pulls a smoke bomb from her utility belt and tosses it onto the ground. Heavy black smoke fills the corridor, obscuring Ra’s from view. A foolish gamble. Smoke will never stop his grandfather. “Go!”

Damian doesn’t linger. He shoulders more of Drake’s weight and forces him into a run. “Pick up your feet, Drake,” he hisses. Damian _knows_ the drugs are affecting Drake’s body, that he can’t keep up with him. There’s no time to dawdle though. Drake clings to him for support as he’s half dragged half carried down corridors.

Brown meets them near the exit. “Where’s Cass?” She takes Cain’s place under Drake’s opposite arm to balance his weight between them.

“Fighting my grandfather.”

“Shit,” Brown curses. “She’ll be fine, she’s strong. She needs to hurry though. We have to get out of here.” She looks over her shoulder when the sound of a sonic bomb reaches them. All three grimace at the deafening volume and hurry onwards to the Batplane. Brown drops Drake’s arm so she can run forward and lower the exit ramp. Together, they deposit Drake into one of the seats.

“Thank you.” Drake gives them an exhausted smile. “Steph? Can you see Cass?”

Brown moves back to stand at the top of the ramp. “Yes, I see her! Cass, run!” She shouts. She slams the button to retract the exit ramp. Brown steps aside so Cain can leap aboard, rolling under the closing door. Her left bicep is bleeding and there’s blood on her side. “Damian, patch her up. I’ll fly us out of here. Cass, sit by Tim. No complaining!” She rushes to the cockpit without waiting for an answer.

Cain takes a seat next to Drake. “Okay?” She asks him.

“Better now.”

Brown emerges from the cockpit with Drake’s backpack shortly after Damian finishes bandaging Cain’s injuries. “We’re on autopilot back to the Cave. Cass, do you need anything? Water? Protein bar?”

Cain shakes her head.

“Okay. Tim, Alfred packed a change of clothes and some other things for you. You look so pretty though! Just like a princess!” Brown giggles when Drake grimaces. She drops his backpack into his lap. “Toothbrush, toothpaste, body wipes, your favorite leggings, that red hoodie you stole from Dick…” she rattles off the contents as she unzips the bag. “Can you get changed on your own or do you need help?”

“I think. Thanks, Steph. Tell me about Gotham while I get dressed. I haven’t seen the news in four days so I have no idea what’s going on. Is there a cure for the Blue Plague yet? Is Ivy still at large? Are any of the family sick? What about everywhere else?”

Damian and Cain turn their backs to provide Drake with privacy. “Major cities were effectively shut down during the outbreak. The three of us plus Grayson continued to patrol and keep the peace in the city after Todd and Harper fell ill. They turned blue, similar to those… what are those obnoxious little creatures with the absurd names and white hats called?” Grayson forced him and Cain to watch the childish show, insisting it’s ‘cute’ and that not watching it is a form of cultural deprivation.

Clothing rustles. “Smurfs.”

Smurfs then. “Father captured Poison Ivy shortly before he and Gordon were able to synthesize a cure. She’s locked up inside Arkham Asylum again. The Blue Plague has spread to a few other cities, but its effects weren’t as severe as it was in Gotham. Your friends in the Teen Titans have done their part in protecting New York and distributing the cure. Sandsmark and Kent wished to accompany us to take part in your rescue. Kent was infected though and his abilities are still being affected. You are to contact them after you’ve reported to Father.”

“Wait, Kon got sick? He’s Kryptonian. Earthly diseases shouldn’t be able to affect him.”

“He’s half human too,” Brown says. “You two can turn around now. Tim’s all dressed and doesn’t look like the Princess Bride anymore.”

“Never compare me to either again, please,” Drake sighs. “The three of you and Talia saved me from being forced to marry Ra’s.”

Damian faces them again. The transformation is almost jarring. Drake looks so… ordinary now. Only the henna stands out. His feet are hidden from view by his boots while his hands are still visible. “Did Grandfather intend to marry you today?”

“Unfortunately yes,” Drake says then shudders.

Brown looks between them. “Awkward. You would’ve been Damian’s brother and his grandfather-in-law if that had worked out.”

“Very bad,” Cain murmurs.

Damian grits his teeth. He has no desire to think about that. “Enough. How were you captured?” He’s aware that Drake was drugged at his meeting. Foolish. He should have been aware of the threat before it was too late.

Drake sighs. “I didn’t realize the mint tea had been drugged until the effects hit me all at once. I had time to activate my distress signal and then the dizziness began. Shortly after Ra’s showed himself, one of his henchmen grabbed me. Ra’s held a vial in front of my face and I blacked out. I didn’t regain consciousness until we were over the Atlantic. Then I,” he pauses, swallows, and lowers his gaze. “I found out what he’d done. You saw my email. You know I said he could have me for one night if he would give Bruce the cure to the new disease he’d created.”

“Oh, Tim,” Brown whispers. She rubs his arm and presses closer to comfort him. Every Bat knows the sacrifice Drake has made for Gotham. For the entire country. This entire affair hasn’t changed Damian’s outlook on the third Robin at all. It has caused him to lose respect for his grandfather. Drake is nineteen. Ra’s al Ghul has lived for centuries.

“After I sent the email and met up with Talia, Ra’s captured me again. I thought I’d be able to escape from him a third time because he hadn’t tied me to the bed or drugged me that day. I was wrong. If Ra’s let me out of his sight, I was bound and drugged to make escape impossible. Whenever I would curse at him that I’d be free soon, he’d laugh. He said that the Titans and the Bats along with the other heroes were too busy with the diseases to come looking for me. And that they wouldn’t come until it was too late for me. Did Talia tell you about the ritual? What he wanted to do to me?”

“She did,” Damian replies grimly. “Father and I acted quickly. We may have to contact Constantine or Zatanna to discover if there is a way to end the connection between you and Grandfather. Too many components of the ritual have already been completed. If he abducts you next month, there’s nothing we can do to prevent him from finishing it and binding you to him.”

Brown swears. “That fucker. I’ll make sure he doesn’t get his hands on Tim ever again even if I have to lop them off myself. Right, Cass?” She rubs Drake’s back and grins at Cain.

“Right.”

Brown kisses Drake’s cheek. “Time to report to Bruce. He beat your record for coffee consumption by the way. He’s been worried sick about you. Dick and Alfred too.” She gets up and moves to sit next to Cain so Drake can make the call.

 

 

Bruce answers almost immediately. The video feed shows him wearing a partial Batsuit. His cape, cowl, and gauntlets are off and he looks exhausted. Like he’s been awake for far too long with too little sleep. Tim knows the feeling all too well. He straightens up in his chair. “Tim.” Some of his weariness changes to relief at seeing Tim safe with Damian and the girls. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come and rescue you from Ra’s myself. I wanted nothing more than to drive my fist into his face for what he did to you and the cities.” His jaw clenches along with his fists. “Are you physically injured?”

Tim shakes his head. “I’m not. Once the drugs work themselves out of my system I’ll be back to full health.” Physically at least. Neither of them mention the mental trauma he’ll be dealing with. “You know the innocent are a higher priority and need to be rescued before any Bats.” He raises a heavy hand to brush his hair back again. The action isn’t lost on Bruce. Tim notices how his eyes take in the henna. Bruce, thankfully, doesn’t mention it. Tim knows they’ll wind up discussing it once he’s back at the manor.

Bruce nods. “Good. None of this is your fault, Tim. I won’t have you blaming yourself for what Ra’s did in order to possess you.” His voice is stern, making it clear that Tim is not to argue with him.

Tim bites his lip. “How many people got sick? How many are dead? You know I can find out if you don’t tell me so talk, Bruce.” So many people would be alive and well if he’d never gained Ra’s’ attention.

Bruce sighs. “The data for that is still being collected. I imagine Damian told you how Jason and Roy were infected. They’ve since recovered and so has the rest of Gotham. The elderly, the very young, the homeless, and the already unwell had the highest mortality rate along with the anti vaccination crowd. Not everything was a fatality. Other cities have had similar results.” Bruce looks as if he’ll say more, but he’s cut off by a blur of blue and black as Dick quite literally climbs over the back of the chair to sit in Bruce’s lap. Bruce’s lips quirks into a little smile as his eldest boy beams and waves.

“Tim! Are you hurt? Was Damian a proper gentleman in rescuing you?”

Tim can’t help but smile in the face of his eldest brother’s enthusiasm. Dick even has _Bruce_ smiling which is difficult in itself. “I don’t know how much you heard when Bruce and I were talking. I’m not physically hurt. There are drugs in my system, but once those pass I’ll be okay.” He’s careful to keep his hands clasped around the tablet to keep Dick from seeing the henna. If he can get away with keeping his body covered until the bites and bruises fade he’ll be able to work on healing from what Ra’s has done to him. Once the physical signs of the rape are gone, it will be easier for him to begin to heal from the mental wounds. Tim knows the Titans will help as will his work as Red Robin. Dick and the girls will be there for him too. Maybe even Damian.

Dick nods. His grin isn’t quite so wide anymore, showing he knows there’s more to the story than what Tim is telling. “I’m glad you’re okay. Get some sleep, Timmy. I’ll make sure Jason is here too when you get home. We need to get the whole family together.”

Tim smiles weakly. “Sure. Wait, is he still blue?”

Dick snickers. “You heard about that, huh? He and Roy aren’t blue anymore. Kori got pictures though so I’ll get copies of those from her. Should make you laugh.”

They chat a little more and then end the call. Tim knows he needs to speak with the Titans next, to let them know that he’s safe. He isn’t ready to see their worried expressions, to see Kon sick. He writes out a quick message instead. It’s cheap, even for him, but it’ll do until he gets home. _“I’m safe now. I’ll come to the Tower and see all of you again soon. Feel better, Kon.”_ He sends the message. Tim sets the tablet aside and curls up on the seat, pulling up his hood. “Dick’s right. I’m going to try to sleep off the drugs.”

“Okay, Tim. Rest up,” Steph says.

 

Tim wakes to a gentle hand shaking his shoulder. “Tim? Tim, wake up. We’re about five minutes away from the manor.” Steph rubs his back as his eyes slowly open. It’s dark outside the plane windows. Damian has his sketchbook open across his knees while Steph’s voice comes from above him. Tim realizes she’d come over and put his head in her lap. Damian’s cape is draped over him like a blanket. It’s touching coming from Damian. “Hey.” Steph smiles at him. “Feeling better?”

Tim slowly pushes himself up into a sitting position. The aphrodisiacs must have faded out of his system because no one is looking quite so enticing anymore. He still feels tired, but sitting isn’t so difficult and his limbs don’t feel like blocks of lead. “Yes.” He brushes his hair back from his face. The aches and soreness still linger in his body. Tim does his best not to show it as he watches the tunnels fly by. The brilliant light ahead indicates the Batcave, prompting him to sit up straighter in his seat.

The girls exit the plane first, then Tim, with Damian bringing up the rear. Bruce, Dick, Alfred, and Barbara are there. Tim barely gets a chance to acknowledge Bruce before Dick all but tackles him on the landing pad. Dick hugs him so tightly he lifts Tim off his feet. “Tim!” Dick squeals. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t get to you sooner.” He puts Tim back down and cups his face, looking him over. “I’m here if you need to talk.” He steps back so Bruce and Alfred can greet Tim next.

Bruce surprises Tim by stepping forward to wrap him in an embrace. He holds Tim against his chest. “I am equally sorry,” he says. His voice lowers nearly to his Batman register.  
“Ra’s al Ghul will pay for what he’s done to you. To other places.”

Tim drops his head onto Bruce’s shoulder. “He deserves it,” he whispers.

Bruce rubs his back. “Alfred and Jason have prepared your favorites for dinner if you’re hungry. They’ve made you a cherry pie too. We can go to the kitchen now if you’re ready to eat. If you’d rather shower, there’s a change of clothes and fresh towels in your bathroom.”

Tim nods. “Shower first.” He wants to get the feel of Ra’s off his skin along with the hours of travel. The sweat from the drug. He steps away from Bruce, frowning when his adopted father catches his wrist to examine the back of his hand. He releases Tim’s wrist without commenting. Tim is quick to conceal the henna beneath his sleeves. He wants to scrub the design off his skin along with every mark Ra’s has left on him.

If only it could be so easy to wash those away.

 

 


End file.
